


In My Blood

by Courtneyshortney82



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Animal Trafficking, Character Death, Developing Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, FBI, Falling In Love, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minor Character Death, Organized Crime, Past Abuse, Past Drug Use, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Violence, bethyl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:20:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 143,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21652156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtneyshortney82/pseuds/Courtneyshortney82
Summary: Beth and Daryl have worked hard to separate themselves from their families' mob life, but one tragic night drags them back in and throws them together. A journey of self discovery, healing, revenge, and love unfolds for them as they work to bring down the people responsible for destroying their families.Moonshine Awards 2019 2nd Place Best AU (WIP)Moonshine Awards 2019 3rd Place Best Multichapter (WIP)
Relationships: Dale Horvath/Irma Horvath, Daryl Dixon & Beth Greene, Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene, Gareth/Beth Greene, Lori Grimes/Shane Walsh, Maggie Greene/Glenn Rhee
Comments: 296
Kudos: 190





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe this is finally here! Thank you all for the support of this crazy story that started from a dream and a snow storm. I can tell you that this wouldn't have seen the light of day without the support of my amazing friend and beta Squishycool/Im.Immortal seriously she is the absolute best thing in the world! I hope you enjoy the little mob world that I have created!

**Senoia Daily News** **  
** **June 5th, 2010**

**_Good Samaritan Saves Deputy Sherriff's Life_ ** **  
** By Irma Horvath

A routine traffic stop became a living nightmare for Deputy Sheriff Rick Grimes. Around 4:00 PM Thursday afternoon, Deputy Grimes pursued and pulled over a vehicle that had run a stop sign. As he was approaching the vehicle, the driver pulled a gun and fired twice at the Deputy through the driver’s side window. One shot hit the Deputy’s Kevlar vest, but the second shot found a vulnerable spot and pierced his left shoulder, nicking his brachial artery.

Angela Prescot was working dispatch and had taken the initial radio call from Grimes. Prescot ran the plates to discover the vehicle had been reported as stolen. However, by the time she radioed the information back to Grimes, he had become unresponsive. That’s when she dispatched another sheriff’s deputy to the scene.

_ “Rick is a constant professional and him not answering his radio immediately caused me to worry,” _ Prescot told reporters during this morning’s press conference.  _ “He didn’t have time to call for backup or report his injury. I knew he was in trouble and I could only pray the backup arrived in time to save his life.” _

Deputy Grimes survived what should have been a fatal injury because a Good Samaritan witnessed the shooting and was able to quickly come to Grimes’s aide and provide life saving medical care until the paramedics arrived on the scene. 

Hershel Greene, a retired veterinarian, was heading the opposite direction and witnessed the shooting from down the road. He immediately turned around and was able to keep Grimes calm and conscious and apply a tourniquet and pressure to the bullet wound to slow the bleeding and keep the Deputy from potentially bleeding out alone on the side of the road. Greene reported to the Sheriff’s office that the driver of the car sped off as soon as he fired on Deputy Grimes, but the car was later discovered two miles down the road. The shooter was successfully apprehended after a short-lived shootout with arresting officers. Officials say Greene’s quick actions undoubtedly saved Rick Grimes’ life.

The suspect is currently being held at the King County Sheriff’s Department and will be arraigned on multiple charges including, but not limited to: attempted manslaughter, assault on an officer with a deadly weapon, fleeing a crime scene, reckless driving, and illegal possession of a firearm. His name has not been released to the public at the time.

Deputy Grimes is expected to make a full recovery and after intense physical therapy will be returning to the force. His wife, Lori Grimes, was also at the press conference today and wanted to publicly thank Hershel Greene for his selfless act of bravery that saved her husband.  _ “Because of Mr. Greene’s kindness and willingness to help others, my son still has his father. Rick and I will be forever grateful and indebted to him for his selfless bravery,”  _ Mrs. Grimes announced.

Updates on Deputy Grimes’ condition and the suspect’s prosecution will be reported as they become available.

\---

**The Washington Post** **  
** **January 3rd, 2013**

**_113_ ** **_th_ ** **_Congress Begins with Fireworks: Bold Statements from Bold Representatives_ **   
By Connie Hunter

Day one of the 113 th Congress began with strong words from the new Congresswoman from Ohio. Deanna Monroe, the Republican that unseated three-term Democratic Congressman Bob Stookey in November, barely gave her husband Reginald and two sons, Spencer and Aiden, time to sit down before she made clear what her mission would be in the coming years.

Congresswoman Monroe made a particularly headstrong statement to the press today: “ _There is a silent plague operating in our beautiful country and I have seen it first-hand. I have been laughed at and told I was delusional when I have spoken about the hold that organized crime still has on us. Many people have told me I am living in the wrong decade and that there is no such thing as the ‘Mob’_ _anymore. But I will continue to stand up and say: I have seen it. I have seen what these criminals are capable of. Law enforcement and elected officials have turned a blind eye to this problem, and they have given these crime syndicates the free pass they craved to run loose across the country and wreak havoc in the shadows. I plan to bring them out of those shadows that have made them feel so safe for so many years. My goal for my time here is to make sure that this country isn’t falling back into the times of organized crime. We will put an end to the era of these monsters reigning terror over the innocent citizens that inevitably get caught in the crossfire.”_

Many of Monroe’s fellow Congress members brushed her comments off as a new face hoping to make waves.

Congressman Morgan Jones, a Republican representative of the state of Georgia, found the Congresswoman’s comments entertaining. Jones was reported as saying, “ _ I have been in politics for many years and I have yet to see any evidence of the organizations she speaks of. Mrs. Monroe wanted to get her name out right away; she wanted to make headlines and draw attention with a dose of classic hysteria. And she has done just that. I’m sure she’ll have a running segment covering this on Fox News in the near future.” _

Other members had varying opinions on why the Congresswoman took such a strong stance on day one. Congresswoman Sasha Williams, a Democratic representative from the state of Virginia, made a bold statement on the matter during her walk from the chamber to her personal office: “ _ Congresswoman Monroe’s own husband, Reginald, has been questioned multiple times about some of his more private business dealings. And as long as I’ve been in office, it’s been a well-known rumor that he’s fond of crossing lines undetected. There are a few people that think she’s come this far for the mere fact that she can make it easier for him to get away with his criminal activity. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t trust her as far as I can throw her.” _

Regardless of her intentions, Congresswoman Monroe was able to get the entire country talking about her tough stance on organized crime. Only time will tell if anything comes from it. Or, if Congresswoman Williams’ implications are to be believed, Monroe’s family may be pulled from the shadows.

\---

**Senoia Daily News** **  
** **December 26th, 2013**

**_Christmas Miracle for Local Children_ ** **  
** By Irma Horvath

Christmas was almost ruined for the handful of sick children that were forced to spend the holiday in the hospital. The unexpected snowstorm that shut down the interstate and almost paralyzed the state of Georgia had an almost Scrooge-level effect on the children of Senoia. Every year, the VFW in Atlanta has a toy drive and distributes hundreds of brand-new, unwrapped gifts to hospitals in the area for children that are unable to go home. The delivery that was supposed to arrive at Senoia Mercy Hospital couldn’t make the trip with all the road closures.

Recently elected Sheriff Rick Grimes made a plea to anyone in the area that could help: “ _ The children of our community are the future of this town and unfortunately, sometimes they are forced to spend one of the happiest days of the year in the hospital. The VFW has always made it their mission to make sure that these children have toys and Christmas cheer brought to them, no matter their bleak circumstances. The shipment will not be making it this year and so I am asking anyone in the community to help if they can. If ever there was a time to spread some holiday cheer to those who need it most, this is that time.” _

Donations came pouring in, but the biggest surprise of all for the children was when Hershel Greene and his family showed up outside the hospital in an actual sled being pulled by real live horses. Hershel himself, a retired veterinarian and farmer, was dressed up as Santa Claus - which, according to his community, isn’t a stretch for him! The Greene family then spent the next few hours distributing the presents that had been donated and passing out candy canes, hot chocolate, and hot apple cider to everyone on the pediatric floor.

“ _ Seeing my daughter’s face light up when she saw Santa Claus walk in with a gift for her and his family with treats is a moment I won’t ever forget. This Christmas was going to be hard for the two of us, but thanks to the Greene family, we definitely felt the Holiday spirit!”  _ Carol Peletier told this reporter. Carol’s daughter, Sophia, was involved in a car accident that tragically killed her father a week ago and the young girl has been hospitalized since. According to her mother, little Sophia was frantically worrying that Santa would be unable to find her since they weren’t at home.

The evening was wrapped up with carols being sung by Hershel Greene’s youngest daughter, Beth, and his wife, Annette. 

If you are interested in donating toys or making a monetary donation to the VFW Christmas Toy Drive, please log onto the Senoia Daily News website and follow the link in the article.

\---

**Senoia Daily News** **  
** **November 1st, 2015**

**_No Actual Crime Committed at Dixon Junkyard_ ** **  
** By Irma Horvath

While children were out ringing doorbells and cheerily asking for candy at their neighbors’ houses, gunshots were ringing out across town. Close to twenty calls were reported to the King County Sheriff’s Department last night, reportedly complaining that there were gunshots coming from the Dixon Junkyard.

We were able to reach Deputy Shane Walsh for a comment on what happened last night: “ _ Around 7 o’clock last night, we received multiple calls reporting weapons being discharged from inside or around the Dixon Junkyard. We responded to the call and found William and Merle Dixon on the property. Upon questioning and further investigation, we discovered that the father and son had been shooting at a large group of raccoons. The men claimed they thought they were being robbed and only meant to scare off the intruders. After a thorough search of the property, we found exactly zero raccoons - dead or otherwise. _ ”

This isn’t the only reported disturbance that has occurred at the junkyard in recent years and most likely will not be the last. 

\---

**The Washington Post** **  
** **January 3rd, 2016**

**_Monroe Refuses To Back Down on Plans to Eradicate Organized Crime_ ** **  
** By Connie Hunter

Republican Congresswoman Deanna Monroe has begun her third term as a representative of the state of Ohio and she still plans to rid the country of Organized Crime. Many of her counterparts have openly mocked her for her endeavor, but in the past four years alone, Monroe has uncovered syndicated crime units in her home state of Ohio as well as Texas, Nevada, California, and Florida.

None of these small groups could technically be considered a large “mafia type” organization, though they legally fit the accepted definition of an organized crime syndication.

After her reelection in November, the head of the Judiciary committee of Congress announced that Monroe would be joining the committee. Shortly after being sworn in, the Congresswoman held a brief press conference to answer questions about how she intends to utilize her new position.

“ _ It is an honor to be asked to join this committee and I look forward to working with my fellow representatives in keeping a watchful eye on the judiciary section of our great country. I intend to present to my fellow members the issues I have uncovered with law enforcement turning a blind eye to crime syndicates in their areas. I solemnly vow that I will use my position to draft new laws and finally make this country safer for everyone.” _

Many people thought that Monroe and her controversial ideas, as well as the countless rumors about her husband Reginald’s business dealings, would cause her to be a one-term representative. However, her tough stance on crime has proven to earn her a loyal voter base, and for the foreseeable future, she appears to be a fixture in D.C.

\---

**The New York Times**   
**May 5th, 2018**

**_Renowned Architect and Husband of Congresswoman Killed_ ** **  
** By Karen Coleman

The NYPD is still investigating what led to the broad daylight shooting that took the life of Reginald “Reg” Monroe yesterday.

Mr. Monroe started his career as an architect in his home state of Ohio where he was commissioned to design schools, medical centers, and libraries over a fruitful and decades-long career. His work was eventually noticed by developers in New York City and he was then hired to design three notable buildings around Central Park. Upon completion of his designs in New York, Monroe turned down a project to design hotels for a billionaire real estate mogul, electing instead to support his wife’s tireless campaign for Congress. After Deanna Monroe was elected to Congress in late 2012, the Monroe family moved to Alexandria, Virginia and Reg began teaching classes on architecture at the Community College. In recent weeks, Monroe had been in New York City to reportedly meet with wealthy developers from Russia. This began a slew of rumors that he was in negotiations to design a new town center in Moscow.

Yesterday, around 2:00 PM, Monroe and his youngest son, Spencer, were walking down the sidewalk towards Washington Park when an unidentified man jumped from a parked car and slit Reginald’s throat. Emergency services were unable to reach Mr. Monroe in time and he was pronounced dead upon arrival to the hospital. Spencer Monroe reports that the suspect was wearing all black and had fully covered their face.

The attacker escaped quickly and remains at large. Police are asking the public to send in any videos or tips they may have if they were in the area at the time of the murder. Security cameras in the vicinity are currently being reviewed.

If anyone knows anything about the crime or has potential information on the suspect, please contact the NYPD immediately. The public is also being encouraged to submit anonymous tips through the link posted at the top of the NYPD website.

\---

**Atlanta Journal Constitution** **  
** **July 20th, 2018**

**_New Businesses Coming to Senoia_ ** **  
** By Noah James

The small town of Senoia has seen some changes in the past year, but the biggest change might be the job resurgence that has been occurring. Two businessmen from the area have taken an interest in Senoia and are bringing jobs with them.

Phillip Blake, a successful businessman from Savannah, has opened a coffee warehouse in the town and with it brought employment for 300 people. Mr. Blake has decided to expand his coffee import business and will be using the warehouse in Senoia to package and redistribute the all-organic coffee beans that will be transported there from Savannah. 

Senoia is also seeing two large used car lots opening on each end of town in the coming months. Negan’s Previously Owned Vehicles opened last week. The largest lot on the north end of town also has a garage that is looking to employ three licensed and experienced mechanics within the month.

Neither man could be reached for comment, but many of the residents of Senoia are happy to see the boost in the economy as well as the offer of good-paying jobs with secure benefits.

\---

**Senoia Daily News**   
**October 14th, 2018**

**_Annette and Shawn Greene’s Deaths; Entire Town Mourns_ ** **  
** By Cheryl Miller

Last week our town lost two of its most well-renowned citizens. Annette Greene, 47, and son Shawn Greene, 24, were driving to their farm when they were hit side-on by a truck driving on the wrong side of the road. Traffic cameras caught the accident and the Sheriff’s Department is reaching out to the public in hopes that anyone with information will come forward.

Shawn was driving his truck with Annette in the passenger seat, proceeding north into the intersection when the light turned green. A large SUV heading east failed to stop at the red light and smashed into the truck at nearly 70 mph. Cameras show that two men were driving the SUV. Immediately after the accident, the SUV fled South. The license plates were reportedly blacked out, but Sheriff Grimes believes that it was a late 2000s black Dodge Durango with darkly tinted windows.

Annette and Shawn Greene were both killed instantly on impact. The family has asked for privacy at this time, though they have stated that they will be holding a public service in the next few weeks for anyone who wishes to attend and pay their respects.

Hershel Greene has become a pillar of the Senoia community in recent years and his wife, Annette, was just as well regarded. Shawn had recently graduated college with degrees in both Agriculture and Business and moved back to the family farm with the intention of taking over for his father once the eldest Greene retired. Annette had just recently retired from Senoia Mercy Hospital, where she worked as a nurse since the age of 21. The Greene’s oldest daughter, Maggie, and her husband Glenn live in Senoia where Maggie has taken over her father’s Veterinarian practice. Youngest daughter, Beth, lives in Atlanta and has followed in her mother’s footsteps by pursuing a career in nursing.

When the family announces a date for the funeral and a location, we will publish the details. The Greene Family has asked that any donations or flowers be sent directly to the Final Paradise Senoia Funeral Home.


	2. The Departed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All hell breaks loose in Senoia. Rick is forced to put personal feelings aside to keep a promise he made years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this wouldn't be here without Squishycool!!!

Rick Grimes had been either a Deputy Sheriff or a Sheriff since he was 20 years old, so a phone call at 10 p.m. was nothing new. Phone calls like this were part of the reason he now checked the Divorced box when filling out paperwork. But this call was the first to ever make him feel like he had ice coursing through his veins.

"Rick, it's T… you're gonna wanna get every man you got to the Greene Farm, but you gotta get to Beth." 

"How bad is it?" Rick asked T-Dog. Theodore Douglas was Hershel Greene's right hand man and he wouldn't willingly request for the cops to come to the farm if things hadn't gone south. Rick also knew that if T was telling him to get to Beth, it meant the youngest Greene was in danger.

"Hershel’s dead - that's all you need to know, man. You promised the old man if this ever happened, you’d protect Beth. So play cop later and get her the fuck outta Georgia!" If T-Dog had been capable of slamming the phone down, Rick was sure he would have.

Within 10 minutes, Rick was in his truck and flying down the interstate towards Atlanta. He called into the station to get officers to the farm only to discover that the situation in his small town was even worse than he’d thought.

"Man, we just got a call about gunshots at the Dixon junkyard. I sent somebody ta check it out, but it’s probably jus’ Merle and Will bein’ drunk an’ stupid again," Shane Walsh, his deputy, told him before he even had a chance to mention the farm.

"Can't be a coincidence that I just talked ta T-Dog an’ found out Hershel Greene is dead. And now shots at the Dixon's?”

"Fuck - Greene is _dead_?”

“Yup. You remember what I always said I’d have ta do if he didn't go peacefully?" 

Shane sighed heavily, then there was a pause on the other end of the phone and he muttered, “Hang on, man…”

Rick was already able to see the skyline lights of Atlanta. All responsibility he had to the badge had disappeared when he heard that the man that had saved his life years ago was dead. He might be looking for new employment soon, but he wouldn't let Hershel down. And Rick would be damned if he didn’t get Hershel’s baby girl somewhere safe.

Shane’s voice came through the phone again, even tenser than before: “Basset just got a call from Maggie Greene, said her daddy an’ a buncha others are dead. I’mma call in everybody I can get an’ head out there. I'll cover for ya until ya get back."

Shane had been his best friend for years and was well aware of Rick's deal with Hershel. They may have their differences nowadays - and Shane might call Rick's ex-wife Lori _his_ wife now - but they still had each other's back when it came down to it. They were still ride or die partners.

"I'll see you at the farm sometime tomorrow,” Rick said. “I got a feelin’ this one's gonna be a big investigation."

Rick disconnected the call as he was pulling off the Interstate and onto the side road where Beth's apartment was located. He had one more call to make before he would be forced to deliver the news that would destroy the young woman's life.

The other end of the phone had only rung once when a gravelly voice answered.

"Grimes." Daryl Dixon’s familiar growl filled Rick’s ear.

"Code Red, Dixon. I'm pickin’ up the package. Meet me in Chattanooga, the motel just off the highway. Should only take a few hours."

Rick waited for the other man to argue, expecting nothing less considering things may have gone sideways at his dad's place. But Daryl surprised him.

"See ya there."

The line went dead in Rick's ear just as he parked in front of the highrise apartment that young Beth Greene called home.

~~~~~

Rick was convinced that he was in the slowest elevator in the state of Georgia. It was taking too damned long to get to the 12th floor as the weight of everything was beginning to sink in and weigh heavy upon his shoulders. He tried to come to terms with the fact that he would be delivering the worst news possible to an innocent 23-year-old. He was also realizing that he would need to figure out how to convince her that she needed to grab a few things and leave with him. _Immediately_. Late at night. And with no questions asked. 

Yeah, this was gonna be a piece of cake… 

The elevator finally opened on her floor and he found her apartment two doors away. He was relieved because if they had to get out of here fast, the close exit would be extremely helpful. Rick checked his watch and saw that it was close to 11:30 p.m. He hoped she wasn't already asleep. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on her door three times, like he did when he was on police business. He knew he’d probably already scared the girl to death with that ominous and official sound, but it was necessary. He could hear someone walking towards the door and then a pause.

Hopefully, she was checking the peephole. A second later, he heard the slide of the chain and then the heavy click of the deadbolt. The door swung open.

"Rick? What’re you doin’ here?"

Beth looked the same as she had the last time he’d seen her - back when she came home for her mama's funeral. Except this time, she was wearing comfy nighttime clothes rather than a black dress. But she was still all golden blonde hair and porcelain skin and big blue eyes that evoked an aura of innocence. Rick suddenly felt the need to hug her and protect her from what was happening.

"Hey, Beth,” Rick sighed and hesitated but spoke as calmly and simply as he could. “This is gonna sound crazy, but I need ya to pack a bag real fast an’ come with me. Yer Daddy asked me to."

He figured it wasn't a lie to tell her Hershel had sent him since it _had_ been the old man's request. An expression of recognition suddenly passed over her face and Beth surprised him by quickly turning and dashing into what he assumed was her bedroom. She didn’t even ask any questions. She returned less than a minute later, dressed and prepared to leave with a packed black duffel bag in her hand. She hurriedly grabbed a phone charger off of the kitchen counter and stuffed it into a black backpack that she grabbed from a chair. She turned and looked back at him expectantly.

"Okay, let's go.”

She had taken that well. _Too_ well. Hershel must have prepared her.

"You had a Go Bag - ?” Rick shook his head. “Nevermind, let's get goin’. I'll tell ya everything when we get in the truck."

He wanted to get both of them out of there as fast as he could. Something was telling him that they needed to get _out_ of that building. Call it a gut feeling or just his police instincts, but whatever it was, he didn’t intend to ignore it.

Beth walked out in front of him and stopped to lock the door. Rick realized that she really had _no_ idea that she wasn't ever going to be able to come back here. He silently followed her to the elevator that was thankfully still on her floor. The ride down was quiet in a heavy way and the blonde next to him was staring straight ahead with tightly pursed lips, though he could tell that she was trying to process what was happening.

They made it to the parking lot and into Rick's truck before she said anything else to him.

"Daddy told me a few years ago that if you ever showed up and told me ta go, that I just needed to _go_. Maggie told me to have a bag packed and always ready with everything I would need for two weeks. I jus’... never thought I would actually need it."

Beth knew more than he’d assumed she did. He’d expected her to argue or put up a fight, but instead she was prepared. He knew, however, that there was no way she could be prepared for what he was about to tell her. Though he had a feeling she might handle it better than he’d originally thought.

"Well, I'm glad I didn't hav’ta explain why I was showin’ up at your door an’ asking you to come with me,” he said, starting up the engine and carefully driving the vehicle out into the street. “Saved us both an awkward conversation."

Rick wasn't ready to tell her yet. If he said it out loud to Beth, then that would make it _real_. And he wasn't ready for it to be real.

He was well aware of Hershel's business dealings. He had made the choice to ignore what he knew and turn a blind eye to what he occasionally saw. He was alive today because of that man. He got to see Carl grow up because of that man. Judith wouldn't even be here if that man hadn't stopped to help a complete stranger. Over the past 9 years, Hershel had become a father figure to Rick… and now Rick was going to have to investigate his murder.

No, Rick wasn't ready to deal with accepting all of that just yet. He needed to put some miles between them and Atlanta before he told her. That conversation should be had when he could look her in the eye and give his complete, undivided attention. He owed her that much.

They had been on the road heading north for ten minutes before Beth realized they weren't heading towards Senoia and the farm.

"Why aren't you takin’ me home?" Her blue eyes that always made her look so innocent were narrowed at him and Rick suddenly realized that she was not that young gangly girl he used to know. This Beth had seen the world and knew more than enough about her family to drop everything and leave when she was told to. 

"You can't go home, Beth,” Rick explained. “I’ll explain everything later, but you can't go back to the farm. Or Senoia. Or your apartment - or anywhere in Georgia. I told your dad I would get you somewhere safe. So we're meetin’ up with a friend that's gonna help." He wouldn't call Daryl Dixon a _friend_ exactly, but he didn't want to upset her. Telling Beth that he was going to send her off with a man she's probably never met before, whose father had a very tense relationship with her father, didn't seem like the reassurance she needed at the moment.

Thankfully, Daryl's brother had found himself in the back of Rick’s police cruiser on more than one occasion, and Rick not charging Merle for one of the dumbest crimes he’d ever committed had earned Rick a favor from Daryl. And now, he was calling it in. He would probably have to make Merle the goddamn mayor in order to pay Daryl back for this.

Rick had turned on the scanner that he kept in his truck as soon as they’d gotten in. If anything happened, he wanted to know as soon as possible. Plus, having the constant chatter of Atlanta PD helped to break up the uncomfortable lack of conversation inside the cab. He was trying to get the words right in his head before he had to tell Beth everything, but he knew she was slowly losing patience with him. The scanner crackled and a voice came on to dispatch a car to a possible break-in. Rick had stopped listening, but suddenly Beth let out a startled sound and reached out to turn up the volume on the scanner.

"Rick,” she gasped, blue eyes going wide. “That's _my_ apartment they're talkin’ about."

"Ya sure?" Rick asked, brows furrowed. He was rewarded for his question with a scathing side-eye.

"I think I know my own address," she snapped.

Rick was reaching for his phone when Beth's lit up and vibrated in the cupholder where she had put it. She snatched it up before he could catch a glance at the screen.

"It's my neighbor, I have ta answer. She's probably the one that called the police." Beth told him as she swiped her thumb across the screen to answer the call. She pressed the phone to her ear and Rick tried to listen in but he couldn’t hear what the woman on the other end was saying.

"Hey, Jessie. What's… no, I'm not home… you called the police? Are you an’ the boys okay?" Beth's voice went from forced casual to full-blown anxious and she looked over at Rick with wide eyes. "Are you sure? No, no, _don't_ go over there - have the cops shown up yet? …Okay, call me back when they get there."

Beth ended the call and sat her phone back in the cup holder, then she looked over at Rick with tears pooling in her eyes.

"My neighbor across the hall heard a noise coming from my apartment and wanted ta check on me… she said she looked out the peephole and saw three guys leaving my apartment. And it looked like they _kicked in_ my door.” He could tell she was trying to keep her voice steady but it was a failing effort and the tears were still pooling in her eyes. “I think it's time you tell me what's goin’ on."

From her tone, he knew that she was realizing this was big. Rapidly life-changing _big_.

"I'll tell ya when we have a minute to stop, I promise. But put yer neighbor’s number in my phone real quick." Rick knew Beth's apartment being broken into 20 minutes after they left wasn't a coincidence.

Hershel had made sure that Beth's name was nowhere on the lease for the apartment or any of the utilities. No one knew where she lived unless they were told by a member of the Greene Family. So once she finished entering the number into his phone, he grabbed her cell phone from the cupholder, rolled down his window, and chucked it out into the oncoming lane where dozens of heavy tires would soon destroy it. 

Beth was staring at him with a mixture of shock and fury, too surprised to do anything to stop him.

"Why the fuck did you do _that_?!" She wasn't holding back anymore and her angrily raised voice was letting him know.

"No one knows you live there ‘cept yer family an’ friends, right?" He asked, hoping to bring her to see reason. She nodded, still indignant, and he went on, "So unless yer friends play some real stupid jokes, how the hell did somebody find yer place? I'm not takin’ chances that somebody ain’t trackin’ your phone."

Beth didn't say anything, but her face slowly relaxed to show her understanding and eventual acceptance.

"Call your neighbor from my phone. Text her first so she knows you're calling." Rick was hoping that the neighbor had called the police and that Atlanta PD had responded quickly so he could speak to one of them.

Beth silently agreed and used his phone to do what he said. She waited a few seconds after sending the text before dialing the number. 

"If the police are there, ask ‘er to put one of ‘em on the phone," Rick instructed as she put the phone up to her ear. She nodded and waited for the neighbor to answer.

"Hey, Jessie… no, I'm fine, somethin’ came up with my family. Did the cops show up yet? ...Can you put one of ‘em on the phone? ...Yeah, thanks."

Beth went to hand the phone to Rick but he shook his head and whispered, "Put it on speaker so you can listen in."

Beth hit the Speaker button just as a deep voice began to come through from the other end.

"This is Officer Lamden."

"Officer Lamden, this is Sheriff Rick Grimes from King County. I'm with Beth Greene, she lives in the apartment that was broken into. I came ta get Beth to deal with a family emergency so she can't be there at the moment but I’ve got her here with us on the line. Can you tell me if anything was taken from the apartment?" Rick hadn't seen anything in the apartment that could be traceable, but he also had no clue who he was dealing with.

"Sheriff Grimes, Ms. Greene, It doesn't appear anything was taken or even really disturbed. The door’s been kicked in, the couch and the bed were flipped over and all the closet doors were left open. There’s a few things thrown around - almost like they were looking for something. But as far as we can tell, that's all that seems amiss. Did you have a laptop out somewhere? Any expensive electronics or jewelry?" Lamden asked.

"No, I left my laptop at my boyfriend's house,” Beth answered confidently. “There wouldn't have been anything of value except my TV."

"I’m looking at the TV so it seems like everything is still here,” Officer Lamden confirmed.

Rick's gut feeling had been right: they had left just in time. There was no way someone was going around randomly kicking in doors and just so happened to pick Beth's door. There was no way someone would go through an apartment like that without taking anything. Not unless what - or _who_ \- they were looking for wasn’t there.

"Thanks, Officer Lamden,” Rick said. “I'm gonna be comin’ back through Atlanta in a few hours. If you don't mind, I’d like ta stop in at your station." He wanted to check the apartment out on his own, but he needed to get to the farm by morning so that, hopefully, a little law enforcement cooperation could be had.

Lamden gave Rick the station name and told him he would be there until 7 a.m., then Rick disconnected the call and turned the phone off completely. He was probably being paranoid, but right now he figured he had every right to be. Better safe than sorry, after all.

"There's a truck stop in a few miles. We'll stop there an’ I'll tell ya what's goin’ on. I'm gonna need gas anyways." Rick hadn't noticed how low the tank was until now and they still had 50 miles to go before they’d be meeting Daryl. Plus, he still needed to get back to Senoia. There was no time to waste.

"Fine. You could've at least let me say goodbye to Jessie." Beth was annoyed, but that was alright with him. She could be annoyed all she wanted, so long as she was annoyed and _alive_.

"I'll let her know you're fine," Rick promised as he pulled into the truck stop and parked the truck beside a gas pump.

Once he’d parked and scoped the place out a bit, he turned off the engine and turned to Beth.

"Stay in the truck and lock the doors as soon as I get out. I'm gonna grab a coffee - you want anything?" Rick was definitely going to need the caffeine to get through the night.

Her expression softened and so did her voice. "A bottle of water, please."

Beth may be annoyed at him, but Rick had to laugh at the fact that she still had her manners.

He quickly filled the tank and then went inside the station for drinks. The truck stop was fairly busy, which made him feel less conspicuous. Hard to remember one face when there were at least 20 in the store. He quickly paid, walked out the door and headed towards his truck. He realized his mistake as soon as he looked up and saw his truck sitting right in front of the store and not by the pump where he had parked it: he had left the keys in the ignition.

Beth was sitting innocently in the passenger seat waiting for him. He walked to the driver's side door and tried to open the doors but they were locked, like he had told her to do. Maybe he should have also told her not to move the fucking truck. She glanced over and hit the automatic unlock button, and as he climbed in he noticed his keys were not in the ignition as he’d left them. Then again, did he really think they would be?

Beth spoke so calmly and coldly that he could’ve sworn she had ice in her veins. "I know you're anxious to get on the road so the faster you tell me what's goin’ on, the faster I give you the keys back."

She really was a Greene.

Rick settled into his seat and leaned his head back. He had avoided this long enough, it was time to act like he had a pair and just lay everything out for her. He took a deep breath and turned his head to face her, making sure he could look her in the eye. She deserved that much from him.

He figured the best way was to just fall back into cop mode and tell her as quickly and flatly as possible, like ripping off a bandaid. "I got a call from T a few hours ago. He told me ta get you outta the state ‘cause somethin’ went down on the farm tonight. I don't have many details yet and I’d tell you if I did, but the one thing I do know is… your daddy was killed."

He watched as the realization took over her face and tears filled her eyes. Beth closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. At first, he was worried she might be having an attack of some kind, but then she was opening her eyes and staring into his as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Somebody killed Daddy?” She whispered, her voice choked with grief.

"Yes. And I have every intention of finding whoever did it and making sure they _pay_ for what they did,” Rick replied honestly.

He could see her swallowing hard, then she asked, “What about Maggie and Glenn?”

“When I was driving to your apartment, I was talkin’ to Officer Walsh and a call came in from Maggie. That's all I know at the moment…”

Beth was silent and she seemed to be contemplating his words, struggling to process everything.

He went on, “I made Hershel a promise, years ago, that if a situation came up that required protecting you, I'd do that before I do _anything_ else. I kept my promise, Beth. I've had a plan in place for a few years now. Now can I have the keys back so I can keep my promise to your daddy?"

Rick was beginning to feel that they had been at the truck stop too long. He was anxious to get back on the road.

"Will you answer my questions while you drive?" She asked as she pulled the keys out from inside the front of her shirt.

Damn, she really did have more backbone than he’d thought. 

"Ask away," He agreed, grabbing the keys out of her hand and eagerly starting the truck.

He backed out of the space and quickly got them back onto the highway. Rick chanced a glance over at Beth and could see her trying to form her next question, mulling over the words in her head silently. He decided to voice what had been weighing on his mind since the break-in call had crackled over the scanner.

"I think the men at yer apartment were there to kill you. Possibly take you and use you for leverage... but most likely _kill_ you. That's why nothin’ was taken, all the doors were left open, furniture was overturned - they were only there long enough ta realize _you_ weren't there." He knew she had most likely come to that conclusion on her own, but he needed to make sure she understood the full gravity of the situation.

"I know. I think I knew this whole time that this meant Daddy was gone. I knew the moment I saw you outside my door... I just didn't wanna admit it. Rick, how are you gonna get back to the farm and take me wherever we’re going? Are you just gonna leave me somewhere and tell me to stay put?" Beth had herself pulled together and was now thinking ten steps ahead.

Good. Her thinking that way would keep her alive.

"No, I'm not just gonna _leave_ you somewhere,” he assured her. “Well, I'm gonna leave you, but not in one spot and not alone. Like I said, I've got a plan. Someone I trust is gonna get you somewhere safe, and then I can focus on finding out who did this."

Rick wished he had the time to pull over and hug the youngest Greene and promise her that he wouldn't stop until every person that had harmed her family was dealt with. But that wasn't what she needed. What she needed was for him to get to Daryl and for the two of them to disappear. And to _stay_ disappeared.

"Who?" Beth asked.

"What?" Rick answered like some sort of old comedy show.

"Who are we meeting?" She clarified.

"Oh, I think it's best you jus’ wait until we meet him. He's hard to explain." Rick pretended he couldn't see the concerned look she was giving him.

An idea hit him at that moment and it gave him somewhere to start.

"Beth, there should be a small notebook in the glove compartment. Do me a favor and write down everybody that knows where you live. Boyfriend, friends from school… anybody you can think of." He couldn't be sure if this would pan out or not, but someone had figured out where she lived. And if his gut was right, they had help. This was the best place to start.

She surprised him again by not asking questions and quickly locating the notebook and writing down names. He glanced over while she scribbled and saw some of the names had partial phone numbers and addresses. Once she was finished, Beth read over the list and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

"I could've given you phone numbers, but you turned my phone into roadkill,” she remarked snidely. She wasn't getting over that anytime soon, he realized. But she closed the notebook and laid it on the seat next to her without another word.

She sat there for a few minutes staring out the windshield at the miles of asphalt in front of them. From the corner of his eye, he watched her pull her shoulders back and take a deep breath like she was preparing herself for battle. When she asked her next question, he realized she might have been doing just that.

"How much do you know about my dad?"

That was the question he had been waiting for her to ask. He figured the truth would be the best plan once again.

" _Everything_ ,” Rick admitted. “Every legal and illegal part of his business... How d’you think he's never been caught?"

Beth didn't answer right away. She simply stared at him for what felt like hours, her intense blue gaze boring a hole right through his skin. Until she was placing a dainty hand on his shoulder and saying something so quietly that he could barely hear it.

"Thank you."


	3. Goodfellas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth meets Daryl... what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be the reveal of who was responsible for the hits on the Greene farm and the Dixon junkyard, but I couldn’t put off the Beth and Daryl meeting. Next week we find out who was responsible! Once again thank you to SquishyCool for her amazing beta work! Daryl might have a few chatty moments in this chapter, but as we’ve learned the past two seasons he is allowed to talk! There’s an explanation for his need to chat coming in an upcoming chapter.

_ Daddy's dead. He's gone. He's with Mama again. _

Beth's thoughts were scattered but thinking about her daddy kept coming to the front. She was glad Rick didn't seem to want to talk after he answered all her questions. For the rest of the drive, she was lost in her own head, watching the scenery change as the miles sped by. A sign informed them that they were leaving Georgia. A few feet later, they were welcomed to Tennessee. The truck slowed as Rick pulled off the highway and followed dark streets past dilapidated buildings. A few moments later, he pulled into a run-down looking motel. The sign above the office that proudly proclaimed  _ Vacancy _ was buzzing so loudly Beth could hear it in the truck. From the looks of the nearly-empty parking lot, she was sure they had vacancies.

Rick parked in a spot at the far end of the lot next to another truck that was occupied by someone Beth couldn't quite make out. The truck was an older model that reminded her of one Otis once had. She thought it had once been blue, but time and rust must’ve faded the paint. There was a tarp tied down over the bed, covering whatever was stored back there. She realized that this must be the "trusted person" Rick was passing her off to.

She looked over at Rick and she could see that everything that had happened tonight was heavily weighing him down. Her daddy had cared for him, looked at him like another son, and the way Rick had spoken before made Beth think the feeling was mutual. If he said this was the best plan, she would trust him. She had promised her family that if Rick ever showed up and told her they needed to leave, she would go without question. In her head, she always thought Daddy and Maggie were just being overprotective, but after seeing him tonight, the break-in, and everything she had heard, it just confirmed that they weren't overreacting. Rick wouldn't willingly send her away with just anyone, even if it was hard to explain.

She was a Greene and like her daddy always said, they all had jobs to do. And right now this was her job. 

Rick turned his head and locked his steely blue eyes on hers. "Ya ready?" he asked. 

He was looking at her so intently that she felt like this must be the look he used in interrogations. She could lie and say no and hope he would change all the plans he had made, but she wasn't going to lie to him. He would probably know if she did. She was ready. She was scared and running on adrenaline that was quickly beginning to drain away, but she was ready.

"Ready." She assured him with a small smile and nod.  _ This is my job tonight, this is my job tonight,  _ Hershel's words repeated in her head.

She went to grab her bags from the back but Rick waved her off. "I'll grab em once we get ya settled in. Come on an’ meet Daryl first." He gave her one of his reassuring smiles and gestured towards the other man exiting his truck.

Beth jumped out of the truck, the impact of her shoes on the pavement oddly jarring to her tonight. She slowly walked to Rick's side where she finally laid eyes on the man that was supposedly going to keep her safe. Daryl, that's what Rick said his name was right? Her mind had too many thoughts racing around and getting jumbled to keep everything straight. 

She could feel his eyes taking her in and knew he was trying to get a read on her the same way she was with him. He was about the same height as Rick, but that's where any similarities ended. Daryl's hair was long, the ends brushing his shoulders, and the bangs hid his eyes from view. It seemed a bit unkempt but at least it was clean. His facial hair was trimmed but starting to show more gray than brown, like the hair on his head. The one thing she couldn't get past was his broad shoulders. This man was as far from her type as he could get, but she was still a straight woman and if she were being honest... those shoulders were a  _ gift _ .

"Have any trouble?" Rick interrupted her slowly spiraling thoughts.

"Nah, got here twenty minutes ago, got a room." Holy shit, Beth had heard Maggie describe a man's voice as  _ rough _ , but Daryl's was like taking a shot of whiskey on a dirt road. 

"Good, we got a li’l held up when I stopped ta get gas. Lost my keys for a minute." Rick looked over at Beth pointedly, eyebrows raised, and she could feel the blush creeping up her neck. 

"Anyhow: Beth Greene, this is Daryl Dixon,” he introduced them before turning to Beth and lowering his voice, eyes staring directly into hers. “Daryl's gonna keep you outta sight till we know what's going on. He’ll keep ya safe. I trust him, and yer daddy trusted me. So you can trust Daryl... Okay?" Rick had both hands on her shoulders and she could feel him trying to instill comfort and strength into her, his hands giving a reassuring squeeze.

Beth knew that Rick would never leave her in a situation that was dangerous. He had promised her dad he’d keep her safe and she had promised to trust Rick. But a large part of her wanted to stay tucked next to Rick instead of turning herself over to this strangely wild-looking man.

_ Dixon _ . The name was familiar to her as well but she couldn't place it. She had the feeling that she had met this man or seen him at some point. Good thing she would have plenty of time with him to try and make the connections.

"It's nice to meet you, Daryl. Thank you." Beth realized she'd been silently staring at the man again and she could hear her mama's voice in her head telling her that staring was rude.

" _ Mmhmm _ ," Daryl made some sort of noise that she assumed was an answer. Well, that made it easier for her to think about things since he obviously didn't like to talk. 

Rick was reaching into the backseat of the truck and grabbing her duffel bag and backpack. Daryl had reached out to grab them from him, but something in Beth made her abruptly snatch the backpack from Rick's hand and throw it over her own shoulder. She couldn't understand why she did it, but that bag was the last thing Maggie had given her and she felt oddly protective of it. She didn’t like seeing anyone else touch it.

Both men shared a quizzical look, but then Daryl shrugged and handed Beth a room card. He pointed to the door directly in front of them, "That's us. Don’t worry, it's got two beds."

Beth rolled her eyes, not wanting her face to reveal that she was relieved. She hadn't thought about having to share a room, let alone a  _ bed _ with this guy. 

She started toward the door, but then paused and hesitated. Without a second thought, she turned around and ran back to Rick. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him with all her strength.

"Thank you, Rick. You saved my life. I know my daddy is grateful, and I know he’s proud of you." She raised up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

He stared down at her, seemingly speechless, and smiled weakly. Before either man could see the tears building in her eyes, she turned and quickly walked towards the motel room.

Beth opened the door and was only mildly taken back; she knew she wasn't getting a 5-star suite. The room was small and had the essentials, and like Daryl had assured, it had two beds, both of which looked clean. There was a shared nightstand in between the beds and on the opposite wall was a dresser with a small TV securely attached to it. She sat her bag down on the bed farthest from the door and walked to the small bathroom. Just enough room for a sink, toilet, and bathtub with a shower head. Nothing fancy, but that was okay. She was alive, she was out of Georgia, and she wasn't being hunted down. At least, she didn’t  _ think _ she was being hunted down… 

Daryl startled her from her thoughts as he came in the room and loudly shut the door. He locked the deadbolt and the chain then leaned over to the window that was next to the door and looked out. He scanned the parking lot and seemed okay with what he saw. He tested the window to make sure it wouldn't open and then pulled both layers of curtains firmly closed.

"I’mma take the bed by the door,” he told her, motioning to a worn-out backpack that already sat in the middle of the bed. He slipped her duffel bag off his shoulder and dropped it on the bed next to her backpack.

"Yeah, I saw that. I like the farther bed anyways," Beth told him softly. She sat down gingerly on the bed. She wasn't uncomfortable with Daryl, but she had just met the man five minutes ago and they were suddenly going to be sharing close quarters. All she knew about him was that he drove a truck and Rick trusted him.

Daryl just nodded at her and took off his boots before tossing his bag on the floor and climbing onto his own bed. He turned to look at her and the movement caused his dark hair to briefly move away from his eyes. Blue.  _ Really _ blue, the kind of blue you could drown in. He only met her gaze for a few moments and then turned his head to stare at the wall in front of him. 

"So, is this where we’re stayin’?" She asked him, needing to fill the awkward silence. It wasn't at all comforting like it had been with Rick.

Daryl didn't answer right away. Then he shook his head and kept staring at the wall.

"Okay, mind tellin’ me the plan then?" Beth was grateful for his help, but she wasn't going to be handled with kid gloves. 

Daryl glanced over at her, chewing on the edge of his thumb nail like a nervous habit. He stared hard at her for a few seconds and then nodded. Beth wasn't sure if it was meant for her or himself. 

"Stay here a few days an’ wait fer Rick to call. Then we’re headin’ up to the Smoky Mountains. Find a cabin," he explained without really looking at her. The lack of eye contact unnerved her for some reason. 

It sounded like a decent plan to her. Mountains seemed like a good place to disappear. And the weather was still nice so there wouldn't be snow.

"’Kay, but why do we need ta wait on Rick's call?" 

"Ta make sure nobody’s on yer tail. Don' know much about ya, but I guess yer a pretty high priority, huh?" Daryl slid his eyes over to her like he was hoping she could answer the questions he undoubtedly had. 

"Makes sense." Beth was going to let the conversation go there because it seemed to make him uncomfortable to talk. Then she registered what he had just said.

"You don't know anything about me, but yer here helping me. Why?"

Her question seemed to unsettle him even more than the conversation had.

"Ain't about you. I owed Rick. Never thought he'd call it in, but here we are." He had started chewing on the skin of his other thumb now. She really was making him nervous.

Well, it was her life in danger, so he was just going to have to deal with it. 

“Glad ta know where we stand. Mind if I use the bathroom first?” Beth needed to get out of this room and let her mind race for a few minutes and she didn’t think she could do that with him sitting so close and acting like he was about to jump out of his skin at any moment.

Daryl just shook his head and laid down on his bed. He threw one arm over his head and kept trying to chew through the side of his thumb. Beth decided that was the most she would get out of him for the rest of the night and she assumed he would probably be asleep before she came back out. She grabbed her duffel bag and walked to the bathroom, slipping inside and shutting and locking the door. 

What had she even packed in here? She hadn’t thought to look or repack it in literal months.

Thankfully, she had stuck to the list Maggie gave her and had all the necessities she needed. A shower sounded good but she didn’t think she had the energy to stand up that long, and the bathtub looked a little suspicious so she definitely wasn’t going to risk taking a bath. Beth brushed her teeth for the second time that night just for something to do. She had been heading to bed when Rick showed up at her door and interrupted her nightly routine. She grabbed the pajama pants and tank top she had bought to stick in there - she’d opted for something new just in case. New pajamas were always something that made her happy, so it was a small comfort tonight. 

Now what to do with Daryl and his inability to communicate like a normal person. She made the decision to try and get him to open up in any way because she simply couldn’t handle being stuck with this man for however long they were going to be stuck together if he was going to act like he was about to run away at any moment. Rick knew what he was doing so she needed to trust him, but it would have been nice to have someone that she could actually talk to. 

Beth went to put her toothbrush back in her bag when she noticed she had packed a pair of scrubs. Damn, she needed to find a way to contact the hospital… What was she going to tell them?  _ Sorry, my family is into a lot of sketchy things and they were all just massacred, and I had to take off, so I probably won’t be back to work…ever. _

That wouldn’t go over well. She also needed to call Gareth. What the hell was she going to tell him? How do you explain to your boyfriend that you’re in another state with a man you just met, and you don’t know what’s going to happen next? That conversation was going to take some thought. He knew she would be working back-to-back night shifts so he probably wouldn’t be expecting her to come over. If he called and her cell went straight to voicemail, he would think she was sleeping. So she just had to hope he wouldn’t show up at her apartment and see her busted-down door.

She decided that she would see if Daryl would let her borrow his cell just to call the hospital. She loved her job. She loved her patients and the people she worked with, and they didn’t deserve to just be left hanging. They at least deserved to know she wasn’t going to be coming in. Besides, if she didn’t show up without contacting anyone, her work colleagues would get worried and someone would show up to her apartment door and they’d start asking questions and calling newspapers and TV stations and  _ searching _ for her.

Beth grabbed her bag, unlocked the door, turned off the light and walked out. Daryl was sitting up against the headboard now, watching some infomercial on low volume. She sat her bag down and went to the side of the bed and pulled the comforter off the bed - she had heard way too many horror stories about those things. Daryl was giving her a strange look, so she just shrugged at him and finished turning down the rest of the covers. She piled the pillows against the headboard and got in, leaning back on them. 

Daryl stood up from his bed and grabbed his backpack and headed into the bathroom. She heard the door click shut. Ten minutes later, he was back, having changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt. He went back to his bed and sat down again, staring at the TV again like he had never left.

“What’s your favorite color, Daryl?” Beth asked him. She had decided while he was in the bathroom that she was going to ask him the simplest random questions she could think of in order to attempt at getting him to open up a little.

But the only answer she received was an incredulous look and a one-shoulder shrug. Wow, so this was going to be harder than she expected. Okay, she had worked a few shifts in the ER last year.  _ So treat him like the difficult patients, _ she thought.

“Well, since you asked, my favorite color is yellow. Um, my favorite movie is  _ Casablanca _ \- oh, and my favorite song is  _ Howl _ by Florence and the Machine. I don’t really have a favorite food, it depends on my mood, but I don’t think I would ever turn down a cheeseburger - or pizza, or chocolate. Thanks for askin’.” Beth stared intensely at him, daring him to take the bait. He didn’t seem like the type of guy that would do that, but she was still going to try.

He caught her gaze and gave her a challenging look of his own back. Then he thought for a moment before nodding his head a few times, like he was agreeing with something she’d said. 

“Yer welcome,” he answered in his deep Southern drawl.

_ Seriously…?! _ That’s all he was going to say to her? Alright, he was going to be harder to deal with than she’d thought. She gave him an annoyed sigh and then decided to count the water spots on the ceiling instead of trying to deal with him anymore. Giving in seemed like the best idea. There was no reason to try and push someone when they would just end up lashing out.

Well, no… Okay. Nope, she was going to deal with him one more time. This wasn’t easy for her and she was sorry he got dragged into it, but it wasn’t like  _ she’d _ had the best night either.

“I’m sorry you gotta be here with me. I can tell you don’t wanna be and I understand. I had no idea this was gonna be my night and I really wish it wasn’t. I was about to go to bed when Rick showed up at my door, and now I’m in a different state and in a slightly scary motel with a man I met an hour ago. This wasn’t my plan either.” The tears were building in her eyes and she tried to blink them away, but all that did was make them fall down her face.

Well, if he couldn’t handle tears then fuck him. She hadn’t planned to talk about her daddy with him, but the words just started pouring out without her permission.

“Did Rick tell you anything about my daddy and what our family does? I’m sure he probably did, he wouldn’t let you walk into this blind. I know what they do, but I’m on the outskirts. I think my dad and sister wanted to keep me from it. They did for so long, but then I found out. I didn’t really think about what it entailed until tonight when I had to leave my life behind. My  _ whole _ life: my job, my friends, my family - what’s left of them - and my boyfriend. I’m sure you left a lotta people behind to do this, so you probably know how I’m feelin’ with that. I’d just… I’d like ta have a little human interaction while I’m trying to deal with everything. Ya know?”

Beth chanced a look over at Daryl and she saw him looking over at her, like he was waiting for her to continue. Well, if he wanted to hear more then who was she to deprive him?

“My… my daddy was killed tonight. I’m assumin’ for what he does. That’s why we’re both here. Somebody decided to kill my family and the only one I know that’s still alive is my sister. I’m sorry yer stuck. I’m sorry yer gonna have to change yer life for a long time for me. I just - I guess… I don’t know…” Beth ran out of words.

She’d actually said it out loud. To Daryl. She’d told him about her dad. He most likely knew, but she still felt she needed to tell him. He needed to know why she was trying to reach out to him. And she needed to know that she wasn’t falling down this dark unknown path completely alone.

Daryl was still looking at her. His gaze felt like it was burning through her skin, but she refused to look at him. She was going to keep counting those damn water spots and pretending that he couldn’t see the tears that were continuously streaming down her face.

The bedspread on the other bed rustled and she assumed he probably just turned over and went to sleep. Beth opened her eyes, intending to turn off the light, and leaned over. She caught Daryl’s eyes. He even had his hair pushed to the side so she could really see his face. He had turned over to look at her, his full attention focused on her now.

Maybe he wasn’t as cold as he liked to pretend.

“I knew Hershel,” he started, voice low and gruff. “Not well, but I knew ‘im. Rick told me why he had ta get ya outta town. ‘M sorry ‘bout yer Dad. He was a good man. I think the last time I saw him, I told ‘im he was a ‘tough son of a bitch.’ I ‘member he looked over at me an’ said, ‘yes I am...’ Don’t be apologizin’ to me ‘bout bein’ here. I got nothin’ back home ‘cept a mean old man and a dumbass brother.”

Beth couldn’t believe all the words that were coming out of his mouth. She was beginning to assume that he never spoke more than 100 words a day - and those were probably grunts and random noises.

Then he shocked her even more by taking a deep breath and giving her a little bit more insight into his life:

“My ol’ man - that’s how I knew Hershel. They had an agreement, of sorts. When I used ta work with my family, I went to a lotta their meetings to keep him an’ my brother in line. Our family’s in the same business... the illegal part, at least.” He cleared his throat and added decisively, “Yer Daddy didn’t deserve it. My old man’s prob’ly got the same thing comin’ to him.”

At that, he turned over and began staring up at the ceiling. 

Beth turned off the light then and moved her pillows so she could lay on her back. The motel room was completely dark with the curtains closed tight and the absence of the sun. This thick of darkness probably wasn’t the best for her. She wondered if Daryl would mind if she turned on the bathroom light and cracked the door so she could have something illuminating in her life. 

The voice from the other bed startled her thoughts. 

“My brother, Merle - tha’s why I owed Rick a favor. Wouldn’t call it a  _ favor _ so much as, uh… any thing he asked, I’d do without question. Since he helped us.”

Beth was still trying to stop the quiet sobs that had started without her permission once she stopped talking. Maybe Daryl hadn’t noticed that she had been, but when he continued with his story, she thought he must have and assumed he was trying to give her something else to think about. 

“Merle had decided ta move some things fer this guy. No idea what it was. He just picked up a container every week and dropped it off in Atlanta. So this one time, Merle an’ his friend Cesar had also picked up some moonshine from a guy they knew. My brother was pretty lit, he’d been drinkin’ all day an’ he ended up gettin’ nosey and opening the container. How he knew what the fuck he had, I’ll never know, but it was a container of goddamn  _ powdered Uranium _ .”

Daryl stopped for a minute to softly chuckle and readjust on his bed and Beth thought that she had possibly heard this story, or a version of it, before. But she couldn’t remember where. Before she could wonder more about it, Daryl was continuing.

“So, these two morons are sittin’ in the car with this powdered Uranium and a case of bootleg moonshine an’ Merle has the idea to  _ catch _ something. Guess he remembered some dumbass movie an’ thought Uranium would make somethin’ super strong and he wanted to create his own mutant army or some shit. He was pretty high by that time, too. I dunno how, an’ I refused to listen to his stupid story, but they caught a rattlesnake. They were headin for the junkyard my pops owns, an’ Merle’s stupid drunk ass decides ta have a look at the snake that was in the container the Uranium had been in. He dropped the container and he thought the snake got out, so he started yellin’ and Martinez started swervin’. Then one of Rick’s deputies is pullin’ ‘em over. Merle made some dumbass comments and ended up gettin’ the car searched. They found the Uranium so he got hauled into jail. Rick coulda charged him with a whole mess a things, but instead he called me and told me about everything. Said he needed somebody to keep tabs on things and somebody that he could depend on - said if I agreed, he’d let my brother go. No terrorism investigation and no transporting charges. I agreed… to protect Merle’s ass. Like I always do.” 

Beth could imagine Maggie doing the same for her if she ever lost her mind and did something insanely stupid.

“Did you ever tell your brother what you did for him?” She asked the dark form on the other bed.

“Nah, just went down there an’ picked the two of them up. To this day, he still thinks that he got out of everything because of a paperwork error. He had this grand idea when he sobered up the next day to go find a lawyer and file a lawsuit claiming he’d been beat up at the jail. He had a gash on his head that they’d bandaged for ‘im. I finally asked Rick ‘bout it a few weeks later… they asked Merle where he got the Uranium, and he looked at the deputy, started laughin’ and said, ‘ _ I think the better question, Officer, is how did we catch the snake? _ ’ Merle thought this was the funniest thing he’d ever said, started laughin’ so hard he threw himself forward and hit his head on the desk… Dumbass knocked himself out.”

Daryl let out what sounded like a small laugh at that memory and Beth found herself smiling and even laughing a little herself. 

“He’s lucky to have a brother like you, Daryl. Not many people would do that.”

Beth had a feeling that he told her that story more to try and cheer her up than to tell her why he was helping her. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought he was. If him telling her the story and opening up in the dark to her wasn’t enough of a surprise, what he said to her next almost had her jumping out of bed to hug him, just for showing her that he was trying.

“I ain’t got a favorite color. Wear a lotta black, but never had a favorite.  _ Tombstone _ is my favorite movie, I like that song  _ When You Say Nothing At All  _ by Keith Whitley, an’ I never cared what food was my favorite. I was jus’ happy to have somethin’ to eat.”

Daryl’s shadowed form turned over then and faced the window. Silently telling her that he was done talking for the night.

“Goodnight, Daryl. Thank you again,” Beth whispered into the night, convinced he couldn’t hear her but feeling the need to say it all the same.

“Stop thankin’ me, Beth. G’night.” Daryl’s voice was softer than it had been earlier, like he was finally giving into the idea of her being in his space.

And something about knowing that he heard her quiet goodnight and bothered to reply had Beth smiling, despite everything that had happened in the last few hours. She slowly drifted off to sleep, still smiling to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment. This entire fic would not be here if it wasn’t for SquishyCool’s fic Most Wanted. If you haven’t read it yet, you need to run and read it right away! 


	4. Reservoir Dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The perfect plan... three large egos... what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter when the people behind the hit are revealed. No Beth or Daryl, but I think you will enjoy this chapter. It's always fun to see things from the other side. Bethyl will be back in full force next chapter and I might be convinced to post that chapter later on this week. Once again and like always lots of thanks to SquishyCool for her amazing beta work! Enjoy!

**Reservoir Dogs**

There’s something about small towns. You can always find a house at the end of a dirt road that only a few people know about. No neighbors, the cops don't drive by, and no one knows when a large group of very dangerous people sit down to discuss the almost perfect execution of a plan that has been in motion for years.

Deanna hated small towns. She was too recognizable anymore. She couldn’t move around undetected the way she needed to when she wasn't campaigning. And she wasn't sure why Phillip Blake felt that he was able to call meetings whenever he felt like it. They had an understanding: No one was in charge, the three of them were working together for one common goal. And now that they had the end in sight, she had hoped she would never have to see the other two men again.

Maybe she could have her son Aiden investigate what actions could be taken against the two men. They were both loose cannons. But if she didn't need to keep her public life separate, she would have handled this all on her own. She was the reason these two were able to move in the shadows and handle the unsavory aspects that she wasn't able to. Phillip, for some reason, had taken on the nickname ‘The Governor.’ Why the man felt the need to give himself an unearned title was a mystery to her, but Reg had always trusted him so she felt compelled to do the same. Despite the fact that he thought so highly of himself.

She couldn't say the same about the other one:  _ Negan _ . Reg had never trusted him much. He was overly charming and in her experience, that kind of arrogance never seemed to instill real confidence. He also owned a chain of used car lots. And she knew that no good would ever come from that. If he had that stupid barbwire-wrapped bat with him, she might have to find a way to place him on the no-fly list. Maybe she’d even have one of his car lots shut down.

"Mom, you planning to stay in the car? Or can we go in?" Spencer's voice broke through her silent plotting of publicly ruining the bat-wielding maniac. She hadn't even realized they’d arrived at the house. 

"Yes, of course. Let's get this done.” She spoke sharply to her son. “Spencer, remember this isn't the time or the place for you to assert yourself. Just keep your mouth shut and let me handle this. Okay?"

Deanna had wanted Aiden to accompany her, but he was working on drafting a new bill for her to present next week when Congress resumed. Blake had informed her that she was only allowed to bring one person with her when he "summoned" her to this little get-together. She didn’t like it but she had no choice. Such a thing wasn’t her call and she had to abide by the rules of others in instances such as this.

"I wasn't planning on it,” Spencer reassured her, though his tone quickly became defiant. “But I’ve heard that Negan's team screwed up. It's time to make a deal with The Governor. Cut Negan out right now and then we can work on finding a way to take Blake out of the picture." 

Spencer had that look in his eyes that he always had when he thought he knew more than everyone else. When he was so  _ certain _ of it. He had never learned that all his stupid schemes always ended up costing his family more trouble than they were worth. 

"No!” Deanna argued, switching to her stern mother tone of voice. “Listen to me: we're going in there and you're going to let  _ me _ handle things. That's my job. Your job tonight is to sit there next to me and not say one word. I can't always be around to keep you safe, and these men have no problem slitting your throat. Remember how well your  _ help _ worked for your father?"

She knew Spencer still blamed himself for Reg's death, and rightfully so. If Spencer hadn't tried to set up meetings with the Russian family on his own, the hit never would have been ordered and Reg would be walking into this meeting right now instead of her. It was probably a low blow for a mother to make, but the little shit needed to get his head on straight. She didn't have the time to pander to his constant need for validation tonight.

"Your father and Blake had this plan in motion before your ‘plans’ got your father  _ killed _ . Maybe you should remember that when we’re in there. It should be Reg and Aiden walking in that house, but it's you and me now. I don't have the time, nor the patience, to keep your delusions of power in check. You walk in, say hello if anyone acknowledges you, and then you sit there and  _ listen _ . Nothing more. You don't speak. I don't want to so much as hear you  _ cough  _ again until we’re back in this car."

She didn't have time to coddle him. This was all far too big for any of that.

Spencer knew better than to respond. He simply pursed his lips and nodded deftly. She had hit the right nerve and hopefully, it would keep him quiet until they left.

Blake had bought an old farmhouse on the outskirts of town when he opened the warehouse. He didn't live there - that would be beneath him. No, he liked to be in the middle of town where everyone could see him and know all the good he was doing for the people of Senoia. This house was for the meetings that, if asked, never even happened. Deanna felt that he should have left the house falling apart; no one would ever think twice about it if that were the case. But apparently, a man who called himself  _ The Governor  _ couldn’t have anything that looked run down. He couldn’t bear to risk his precious image.

Deanna and Spencer made their way up the steps of the recently rebuilt wrap-around porch and walked in through the front door. If she had been running this meeting, there would have been at least two men at the door making sure no stranger could just walk in unquestioned. Blake was going to get them all killed with his overconfidence. Something had to be done before it came to that. This plan was already bigger than they had expected it to be, and a microscope was about to be placed on this small Georgia town. Deanna had no plans for her or her sons to be anywhere nearby once that inevitably happened. 

That was another situation she couldn’t understand: both men had insisted on moving to the town and opening new businesses within city limits. They claimed it made things easier to plan and keep tabs on everyone, but Deanna had flawlessly executed her part from her penthouse all the way in Virginia. She made  _ sure _ that no one knew about her monthly trips to Atlanta, let alone the drive to this little crap town. If the wheels came off, she would be safely away at home, innocent and oblivious as always with a picture-perfect smile and a few crocodile tears to shed for the cameras.

The media would be wanting every interview they could get with her. Her stance on organized crime would always be her saving grace. Who would think that the congresswoman who’d made it clear on her first day in office that she was coming for all the illegal businesses that had been conducted under the guise of legit companies was actually running a giant criminal business of her own? Syndicated crime was going to be eradicated on her watch… well,  _ almost _ eradicated. Aiden deserved to inherit his seat at the head of the table that his father used to occupy. She was going to make sure that he had no competition and no worries about what could happen if someone wanted to try and steal what was owed to him. For now, she would just keep the spot warm until he could assume it.

The living room of the farmhouse had been turned into a makeshift board room and Deanna and Spencer were the last to arrive. Blake was already sitting in the seat at the far end of the conference table with his second in command, a tall man named Shumpert, standing behind him and leaning against the wall, giving her a bored look. When she went to sit on the right side of the table, Phillip moved his head to look at her and she realized that his right eye was covered in a bandage and he had a large bruise on his neck like someone had tried to strangle him. His face had a few small cuts and both of his knuckles looked like they had connected with another person. Things must have been a little intense at the Dixon Junkyard. She figured that maybe both men had run into a few problems the night before.

“Phillip! What happened?” Deanna put on her most convincingly concerned smile and voice, wanting Blake to think she really cared about what happened to him. That was one thing she’d learned from being in politics for so long: she always knew how to put on a good face and show just the right amount of emotion without making herself seem weak. Or fake. Hell, she could’ve earned an Academy Award by now if she’d chosen to pursue acting instead of political office. 

“Oh, just a little scuffle with Merle Dixon. Nothin’ I couldn’t deal with,”  _ The Governor  _ drawled in his syrupy Savannah accent. “I assure you, Mrs. Monroe, he got worse than he gave.” He finished with a sickening smile.

Deanna returned his smile half-heartedly and looked across the table at the other men in the room. It seemed odd that the ridiculous man across from her hadn’t said a single word since they had walked in. He usually used up all the air in the room with his constant rambling, but tonight he was merely sitting there with his feet on the table, leaned back in his chair with that damn barbwire-wrapped baseball bat laying across his lap. He was also wearing the least obnoxious outfit she could ever remember seeing him in. A gray t-shirt and jeans with a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. His right-hand man, Simon, was sitting next to him, also looking like he was in some sort of trouble. Simon couldn’t keep his hands still and was stroking his thick handlebar moustache while staring at something on the table. Deanna had been in politics long enough to recognize a nervous habit when she saw one. And she knew that something was really getting to the man. 

“Negan, Simon. How did things go with the Greene’s?” She asked as she and Spencer got situated in their chairs. She had already been here longer than she wanted and this meeting needed to get going so she could head back home.

“Yes, Negan. Please tell us about the spectacular _ fuck-up _ that was the Greene Farm,” Phillip pointedly instructed the man. “And of course, the even bigger fuck-up that was  _ Beth Greene _ .”

So, things  _ had _ gone badly on Negan’s end. This could be the chance they needed to rid themselves of him for good. Deanna held her breath.

“I’m handlin’ it,” Negan spoke with a surprising lack of confidence. “She’s a little girl, where the fuck is she gonna go? Things were just fine until Greene’s other daughter went all Annie Oakley on us an’ started takin’ out my guys!”

Negan was not himself tonight. The man usually had more swagger and inappropriate comments than Deanna could stomach. He still gave off the sleaze factor, but it was noticeably toned down this time around. His shoulders were tight and his jaw was clenched and she could hear the tension in his deep voice.

She couldn’t help but interject. “I’m sorry, Maggie Greene took out some of your men and - since you aren’t speaking about Beth Greene in the past tense - I’m assuming she’s still alive? How did you manage to let things get away from you like that? And  _ why _ aren’t you working right now to get things back  _ under control _ ? Do I need to remind you that it’s not just  _ your _ ass on the line with this?”

Deanna was quickly losing her patience. She was struggling to remain civil and professional, as was necessary when dealing with men like these, but it was becoming more and more difficult with every word that dribbled from their slack-jawed mouths. If they had let her son and his guys handle the Greene Farm, this wouldn't even be a problem. But no - Negan was going to handle the Greene’s. One of his men had an  _ in  _ and it would be the ticket to taking down the whole organization. Or so he’d claimed.

“Well fuck me sideways with a chainsaw, Miss Congresswoman, but I don’t need  _ you _ crawlin’ up my ass about this. I made a call this mornin’ and let me just assure you all: Beth Greene doesn’t stand a  _ chance _ on her own. She’s probably already back in her apartment, curlin’ up next to that slimy boyfriend of hers an’ tryin’ to figure out what happened ta her flimsy little door.” Negan was slowly finding himself again. It wasn’t a welcome idea, though.

Deanna didn’t intend to allow Negan to return to his usual verbose attitude. He needed to remain shaken. His overconfidence had already risked everything. “Alright, let’s just get this done. I have a meeting in the morning and I’d like to be out of this state in the next two hours. So what happened last night?”

“I would call it an  _ almost _ success, Deanna,” Phillip explained with partial confidence. “Things went off well and as planned. There were just a few…  _ snags _ .”

She saw the exasperated look Philip gave to Negan as he mentioned the snags. Blake was holding his anger back, but that never lasted long. She knew from experience.

“My men and I arrived at the Dixon place right on time,” he continued. “We drove the trucks right through the gates and within thirty minutes, they were all dealt with and Milton had collected all the books, computers, and phones. We'll have access to all of the Dixon accounts within the next two days.” He looked over at her, but when he did, he silently reminded her that he had taken a few hits.

Deanna gestured to her own eye and face as she asked, “How did this happen then?”

“Like I said: Merle. I assumed he would be just as drunk as his ol’ man was. He got in a few on me and managed to hit me in the face with a broken bottle. But a gunshot to his gut cut that shit out real fast." Phillip seemed overly proud as he recalled his ‘victory’ and Deanna had to wonder if he had more than a professional grudge against Merle Dixon. "I’m seeing a specialist in Atlanta tomorrow so nothin' for you to worry about.”

His answer made her wish he had taken that broken bottle to the mouth instead of the eye. 

This is how it always went: she was usually the only woman in the room and all the men thought she couldn’t handle the bloodier parts of the world. But she could handle more than them, that was something she was certain of. Reg probably never had to deal with the coddling they tried to heap on her or the constant underestimation, the discreet patronization that never failed to make her blood boil. These two men had probably assumed that Aiden would be taking over for his father, and she knew that her walking into the meeting the day after Reg’s murder had shocked them. Lately, they didn’t seem so shocked. It was more like they were annoyed. But that was okay with her - she knew she could never annoy them half as much as they annoyed her.

“I think you should rethink going to anyone right now,” she said sternly, staring directly into Blake’s good eye. “They’ll ask you how it happened and what're you going to tell them? Andrea got mad and hit you with a broken bottle? I know your wife has no problem being your alibi for everything, but this is something that would probably get the police involved, and then the media of course, and  _ that _ is something we  _ certainly _ don’t need right now. We all agreed that if anything non-lethal happened, we had someone that could tend to medical emergencies. And seeing as you have that nice clean bandage covering your eye, I can only assume that your sister-in-law took care of you. If an ER doctor took care of it, then you should be fine. There’s no need to bring anyone else into it and raise suspicions. Don’t let your vanity be the thing that gets us adjoining cells in SuperMax.” Deanna had no clue why she always had to be the one to remind these two that their actions were constantly under a microscope and any slight mistake they made would  _ always _ reap unintended consequences.

Negan chuckled in amusement from where he sat. “Ho- _ ho _ , the lady’s got ya there, Gov. Ya can’t be riskin’ all of our pretty little asses jus’ ta keep your face lookin’  _ regal _ . ‘Sides - I kinda like the bandage. I think an eyepatch would suit ya  _ real _ nice.”

Deanna hated how he emphasized certain words. The man couldn’t talk like a normal adult if he tried. His interjection allowed her ire to turn towards him.

“It doesn’t sound to me like you have much room to be boasting so loudly, Negan,” she said, keeping her voice as steady and calm as she could manage as she narrowed her eyes at the man. “So why don’t you explain to all of us what happened on  _ your _ end last night?”

Negan’s dark blue eyes became stormy and he gestured to Simon to deliver the news. As though he was far above something so menial. Deanna had to bite her tongue as Simon began to speak.

“Well, like The Governor said, we started off well, too. Broke through the gates an’ drove up to the house and the barn. Our information was off and there were more people at the farm than we'd planned for. We were able to take out everyone in the barn - think it was Otis, Patricia, Morales, and the kid… what’s ‘is name… the tall skinny one, ya know? Uh, oh yeah:  _ Jimmy _ .”

She could tell that Simon was going to drag on and on and make them all wait for the part where his group had actually fucked up. 

“The ol’ man came runnin’ outta the house as soon as he heard shots an’ we got him down on his knees right away. That big bodyguard a his was there, too - fucker took three shots to the chest and  _ still _ wouldn’t die. I swear I saw that ugly beast get up an’ run over to the old man while we were leavin’,” Simon shook his head and took a deep breath, licking his lips and continuing with his story while his voice rose in excitement and anger. “They must've been havin’ a little meeting of their own ‘cause next thing we knew, the whole fuckin’ top tier of the Greene operation was there, and they wouldn’t back the hell down. Negan shot the ol’ man in the head and that just started some other fresh hell. Never even  _ saw _ that daughter a his come outta one of the windows upstairs till she was takin’ people out. The bitch took out six of our fuckin’ guys! Her husband was there, too. Bastard got off a few shots on people. That black guy that was always with him, Dog or whatever they call ‘im, he grabbed Glenn an’ pulled him in the house while that Greene bitch laid down cover. By the time we could regroup and get our bearings, they were just  _ gone _ ... I reckon they got one of those ‘panic rooms’ ta hide in.”

Simon looked over at his boss like he was waiting for approval, reminding Deanna of a dog waiting for a treat because he'd just obeyed a command. Negan merely shot his well-trained puppy an approving half-smile and nodded in agreement.

Deanna took in what he said, resisting the urge to give him a withering look of indignation. Instead, she sighed and folded her hands together atop the table. 

“Okay, so you took out four low-level members and possibly Beta, but Greene’s oldest daughter, who has already been groomed to take over, is still alive. As is her husband  _ and _ his second-in-command, Theodore. So did we at least get the books and computers?” Deanna felt like she knew the answer already but still needed to ask.

Simon didn't respond. He shook his head and glanced away in shame.

“Did you  _ see _ this ‘panic room?’” Deanna was getting frustrated with Negan’s lack of participation. He may have killed Hershel Greene, but all the fuck-ups still fell directly on him.

Simon replied meekly, “Well… no. But where else could they  _ go _ ? And where would they hide  _ everything _ ?”

He did have a point. People didn't just disappear into thin air. Not these days. It was impossible.

“Alright, maybe that’s something we could find out. Do you think you can do that, Simon?” She shot Negan’s dog a patronizing glare as he nodded before turning her gaze to Negan. “Now what happened with Beth? I thought you had that covered. ‘ _No way we can mess this up_ ' is what you said three days ago. Yet it sounds like you _messed_ _it up_.”

Deanna didn't want to think about all the ramifications they were facing just with the failure at the farm. She had to take things one step at a time.

“She wasn’t home.” Negan replied nonchalantly, like it wasn’t something that could be a huge problem.

“She wasn’t  _ home _ ?” Deanna repeated, biting back the urge to snap at him in anger.

“She has ta come back at some point. So we’re just gonna cool our jets an’ wait for her to come back from wherever she went. Pretty little thing like that can’t stay hidden forever.”

“Aiden and Nicholas watched her apartment for three  _ months _ and she  _ never _ deviated from her schedule. She went to work, she came home, she watched TV, and then she went to bed to get up in the morning and do it all over again. She even had her groceries  _ delivered _ so she wouldn't be out in the open! Her father had her so well hidden that we didn’t know where she lived until six months ago. And now you wanna try to tell me - ”

“And  _ I’m _ the one that found her, let’s not forget that, Miss Congresswoman,” Negan interrupted, raising his voice and finally letting his anger show through. “You two would still be chasing your fuckin’  _ tails _ if I hadn’t found the in that we needed.  _ I _ got us the Greene Farm layout,  _ I _ got Beth’s address, and  _ I _ still have  _ my _ guy in play.”

He sat his feet back on the floor and leaned forward, slamming the bat down on the table when he finished. It must’ve been how he intimidated his men, she guessed, but all it did today was make him look like a petulant child arguing about being grounded.

Phillip has been so quiet, Deanna had almost forgotten he was there. But he finally broke his silence and decided to join the conversation again, speaking firmly to Negan.

“Yes, you found her, and we've always appreciated that, Negan. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that both daughters are still  _ alive _ . Hell, the four people that have all the information  _ and _ the ability to rally the rest of the business are still alive… and you’re telling us that you have no idea where any of them are.”

Negan narrowed his eyes and shot Blake a cocky half-smile. “Wanna talk about  _ failing _ , Gov? I think there was one big ol’ body missin’ from  _ your _ little mission as well. I mighta lost a little blonde girl, but you lost a whole  _ goddamn redneck _ ! Tell me, d’you got  _ any _ idea where Daryl is? Or do I gotta find that out for ya, too?”

Phillip pressed his lips tightly together for a second and Deanna could see how bothered he was by the other man’s insolence, but he didn’t let it show in his voice. “Daryl Dixon hasn’t had anything to do with his family’s business in years. Losin’ him is like losing the family cat. He’s nothin’ ta worry about. He had enough of his daddy and brother’s bullshit and never looked back. Merle’s little foray into terrorism was the final straw for Daryl, from what I’ve heard. He’s been livin’ like a hermit in that old cabin for years.”

He waved his hand, dismissing the idea of the youngest Dixon as though it were an annoying fly buzzing around his head. Deanna knew he had a point, though. If Daryl had been at the junkyard last night, he was to be killed with everyone else. But if he wasn’t there, then he wasn’t a threat. He might even thank the three of them for finally ridding him of his no-good family.

She spoke up, “I agree with Phillip, Daryl isn’t someone we should worry about. But Beth is. Maggie is. Glenn is. Theodore is. Why did this girl, who literally  _ never _ left her apartment, suddenly decide to up and leave in the middle of the night? Someone had to know we were coming for her.” She turned and focused her gaze on Negan. “Maybe your guy isn’t so  _ trustworthy _ after all. Maybe he let it slip. That could be why there were more people at the Greene’s than expected… And why Beth is missing.”

Deanna was ready to wrap this up and go; this plan had gone to absolute hell and she wanted to distance herself as quickly as possible. Maybe she would contact her old college and offer to come speak - that would get her even farther away. She and her boys could have a little California vacation and make sure they were seen and photographed all over the state.

Simon chimed in to defend his boss, “Negan called Gregory, he's on his way to Atlanta as we speak. He’ll find her. Our guy was with us last night and he wouldn’t run his mouth to  _ nobody _ . This’ll all be taken care of in a few days. We all just need ta calm down.”

By the look on Negan’s face, an  _ atta boy  _ was coming Simon’s way soon.

“Oh good… Gregory,” Deanna resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Are you  _ sure _ we can trust him?”

She’d only heard about the man they called Gregory. His reputation was legendary with the number of kills he had racked up along with his ability to find absolutely anyone. But she had been hearing whispers through the grapevine that he was secretly working with the FBI. And she wasn’t about to take any unnecessary risks.

“He’s trustworthy,” Simon told her while nodding his head. He almost looked like he was trying to convince himself at the same time.

Phillip spoke with deep finality. “Negan, we need this taken care of. Deanna handled her end well. By the end of the week, Axel and Oscar will be charged with the murders at the Dixon’s. But you said you had the Greenes taken care of and insisted you wouldn’t need her help... This is  _ completely _ on you. When Reg Monroe and I put this plan together, we didn’t even wanna bring you in because you’ve never been anything but sloppy. And yet, you were able to convince us otherwise. But now, with all this, you’re proving to me that you’re not cut out for the big picture we’ve got in mind… Maybe you’re not capable of handling the world we actually live in.”

Deanna watched with a silent and sick pleasure as Negan withered beneath The Governor’s intense stare. She had to hold back a cocky half-smile of her own as she watched every last ounce of arrogance leave Negan’s face.

Phillip continued in a low and ominous tone, staring directly at Negan and Simon, “When I go to war with my enemies, I raise the black flag: I ask for no quarter and I give no quarter. You kill me or I kill you. It’s just the way it is... I would say you could ask the Dixon organization, but all ten men I encountered last night are lying in the morgue right now. And as we all know, toe tags don’t talk.”

And with that, he stood up and walked out the door. As parting words went, Deanna had to admit that those were pretty good.

She decided they needed to be leaving as well and nudged Spencer’s arm, nodding her head towards the door. She was just thinking about how proud she was that he hadn't opened his mouth the whole time when he opened his goddamn mouth.

“My father wouldn’t stand for this, Negan, and neither will we. Maybe you should sleep with one eye open for the next few weeks.” Spencer even had the nerve to smile at the other man.

“Spencer! Shut your mouth and get in the car, we have a plane to catch.” Deanna was going to lock him in a room when they got home. She had no clue what to expect from Negan when she turned towards the man, but he and Simon were mockingly laughing at her son’s statement. 

“I’m sorry, Negan - he still hasn’t learned how to work well with others.” Deanna hated the man and hated apologizing to him even more, but she wasn’t ready to start another fight just when this one was finally coming to an end.

“Don’t you worry about it this time, Ms. Monroe,” Negan smirked, standing up and grabbing his bat with a cocky gait in his walk. “But I think we all know that boy ain’t got no  _ guts _ . I reckon he probably shouldn’t be around any a this no more.” 

He grinned smugly at her as he and Simon walked past them and out the door. She waited until they were halfway to the big black truck that Negan insisted on riding around in before she grabbed Spencer’s arm and pulled him along with her to leave.

She made her way to the car and got into the passenger seat, refusing to speak a word to her son the whole time. Once they were inside the vehicle and he was looking over at her expectantly, she just gave him an exasperated side-eye. She would have to deal with him when they got back to D.C. She figured his brother could be in the conversation as well - maybe it would teach both boys a valuable lesson.

Spencer got out of Senoia quickly and headed towards the private airfield in Atlanta. Deanna was still trying to process all the mistakes and problems that had been dumped into their laps as the city passed them by. Beth Greene was going to be a problem, she just knew. She could feel it in her gut. And her gut feelings never lied.

However, inside Grady Memorial Hospital, there was an even bigger problem waking up in the ICU. A problem that she was still completely unaware of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I love the comments that have been coming in.


	5. Angel's With Dirty Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hershel always keeps his dirty secrets in a barn...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited for this chapter to finally be posted! I had a crazy dream that inspired this work and that scene is in this chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Like always thanks to my beta SquishyCool for listening to the crazy dream I had and encouraging this journey. The next few chapters are building up to one of the big reveals I am really excited for and after that it is all out crazy for a bit. Happy Holidays to all of you and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Angel's With Dirty Faces**

Streaks of sunlight slipped through the edge of the curtains. The TV was still on but there was no sound. Everything felt, smelled, and sounded so different. It took Beth's waking brain a few moments to register that she wasn't in her room in her apartment nor was she at the farm.

Right… she was in a crap motel in Chattanooga, Tennessee. With Daryl Dixon.

The thought of Daryl was what made her finally open her eyes and search for the man. He was sitting on the end of his bed, repacking his bag. His hair was wet and he had on different clothes from the night before so he had at least been awake long enough to take a shower.

Beth wasn't sure she wanted him to know she was awake yet, but like he had done countless times the night before, he surprised her by speaking.

"Mornin'. Got us somethin' to eat. Hope you like vending machine muffins." He had lost the gentleness in his voice from last night. He was back to the gruff man she’d first met.

Beth got out of bed, stretching while she walked to the dresser where Daryl had laid out the food. She grabbed the blueberry muffin and a bottle of water and turned back to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Mind if I find something to watch?” She asked. “I was thinkin’ one of the news channels might be reporting on my family."

His eyes caught hers and for a brief moment, she saw pity in them. She could tell that he thought she was just going to be torturing herself by looking for information, but she had to know. 

"Ya wanna go down that road, I won't stop ya. But I doubt there's anything worth seein’ on there." He had grabbed the remote while answering her and tossed it on the bed within her reach.

She flipped through the channels while breaking off pieces of stale muffin, grateful for the water to help wash it down. The bite she had just taken got stuck in her throat when she landed on CNN: the reporter was standing in front of Beth’s home. Small yellow cards were placed all over the front porch and the driveway. Evidence markers. Every glimpse of yellow was a small piece of the story that told what happened the night before.

It had to be bad if the national news was already covering this story. Beth took a few calming breaths, waiting for the reporter to speak. And when they did, she was hanging on every word, staring with wide eyes at the TV.

" _ I'm standing in front of the farmhouse that has belonged to the Greene Family of Senoia, Georgia for generations. And where, just last night, eleven people were killed in what appears to be an organized hit. Hershel Greene, farm owner and town council member, was one of the victims, along with four of his long-time employees. The other six men were part of the group that allegedly attacked the farmhouse shortly after 9 pm last night. _ ” __

“ _ The local sheriff has confirmed that Hershel Greene, Otis and Patricia Wagner, Juan Morales and Jimmy McCallister were all shot and killed. Three others - Hershel’s daughter and son-in-law, Maggie and Glenn Rhee, as well as his Foreman Theodore Douglas - were able to hold off the men who were attempting to invade their home. The three were able to escape the house and are currently being held in an undisclosed location, reportedly put into a Witness Protection program. _ ”

“ _ We’ve also received reports that there was another shooting last night just a few miles from here at a junkyard owned by the Dixon Family. Information has been limited in the junkyard shooting, but sources report that there were multiple fatalities. The fact that both attacks were carried out simultaneously and in nearly an identical manner has led police to believe that the two crimes are, in fact, connected. We’ll be updating on both of these stories as we receive new information. _ ”

Beth was still in shock from seeing the destruction at the farmhouse and she didn't hear Daryl move until the door slammed behind him. She was on her feet and at the window in a few seconds, just in time to see him punching the side of his pickup. He slammed his hand on the hood a few more times and then leaned down to lay his forehead where his hands had just been. She wasn't sure how long he stood like that, but then he was standing up and lighting a cigarette. She knew he probably wouldn't want her staring at him, or watching such a private moment, so she went back to the bed and sat down, trying to figure out what had set him off. The realization hit her when she glanced back at the TV and read the scrolling headlines, the reporter’s words repeating inside her head.

_ Another shooting… junkyard owned by the Dixon Family… fatalities…  _

Daryl's family had been targeted as well. He had lost people just like she had. He was here with her because of something he did for his brother and now his brother might be dead. Beth felt awful because she had been so consumed with seeing her home that she didn't realize there was another part to the story. Had Rick known last night when they met up with Daryl? Was he hiding that information to keep her safe? She didn't want to be the reason Daryl wasn't at home with his family - the reason he couldn’t help them.

Beth decided that she was going to tell him to go back to Georgia as soon as he came back in. He had no reason to be here with her. She didn't need a babysitter, she was a grown woman that had been living on her own for years. If the situation called for her to stay away from home, she could do it on her own. She  _ knew _ she could.

Her mind was racing with all the possibilities and what she would need, already forming a plan, that she didn’t hear him come back in the room. Daryl sat down on his bed and cleared his throat to get her attention.

“You ready to head out? Rick wants us ta stay put for a few nights, but I wanna move. Think we’ll stay in Nashville ‘fore we head to the mountains.”

“Daryl, was that your family they were talking about at the end? I’m sorry I didn’t catch on right away - you should head back home and take care of what you need to. I’ll be okay here. I can rent a car from somewhere and you can tell me where you were planning to go.” Beth knew she was rambling, but she wanted him to know that he didn’t need to stay with her out of some long-term commitment to Rick. Especially not if his family needed him.

“Nah, I’m not takin’ off on you and headin’ back to that shithole. Grab yer stuff an’ meet me in the truck.” Daryl grabbed his bag and swung it onto his shoulder, storming out the door before she could say anything.

Beth sighed as she pushed herself off the bed and grabbed a clean set of clothes and her toothbrush from the bag at the end of the bed and quickly ducked into the bathroom to get ready. Once she was clean and dressed, she made a quick check around the room to make sure that they hadn’t left anything behind and quickly ran out the door and jumped into the passenger side of the truck.

Daryl didn’t even acknowledge that she was there, he already had another cigarette lit and was staring straight ahead. Hearing about his family had closed him off again. The man that had told her stories last night to take her mind off of her issues was gone and replaced by the gruff man that had promised to keep her safe and had no interest in making friends. 

“I’ve always loved Nashville. I know this isn’t a vacation or anything, but it’s my favorite city.” She looked over at Daryl to see if she was annoying him or if he was even paying attention to her.

He was still staring out the windshield, which was probably a good idea since he was the one driving. But then he glanced over at her like he was expecting her to continue. So she did. 

“The first time we went was for my parent’s anniversary. My mama always wanted to see the Grand Ole Opry and my daddy made sure that she got to. I was obsessed with the place from the minute we arrived. Bein’ surrounded by all that music and all those talented artists... It was like seein’ all my dreams come true in one place.”

Beth couldn’t help smiling as she thought about that trip. She’d been so carefree during that trip. She was still young and happy back then. Back when she didn’t know anything about what her father did.

“I went back right after I graduated from high school,” she went on. “I’d already been accepted to college and had my future all planned out, but I thought that like, maybe if I went to Nashville and performed at a few open mic nights… someone would notice me and offer me a recording contract. I thought I’d get  _ discovered _ .” She paused and shook her head, giggling softly at the recollection of her own naivete. “I got there and went to the first bar to play and suddenly, I had the worst case of stage fright ever. I couldn’t even sit there and listen to the other people sing, I thought I was gonna have a panic attack or somethin’. I went back to my hotel room to get some sleep and ended up driving back home first thing the next morning.” She laughed lightly.

Beth noticed a small smirk on Daryl’s mouth. It was at least something.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Beth was silently reminiscing about the times she had spent with her family and Daryl was just driving and chain smoking. Soon, signs of the city started to come into view and they stopped at the first motel they came to that had a  _ Vacancy  _ sign lit. It was far from the hotels she had stayed at the previous times she’d been here, but they were trying to stay out of view after all.

Daryl went and checked them into a room and came back with two keys. They drove to a room at the far end of the parking lot. They both grabbed their bags and like the previous night, Beth claimed the bed that was farthest from the window and Daryl spent a few minutes checking the locks on the window. The room was set up almost identical to the one the night before. It was probably pretty common for all cheap motels to look about the same, Beth reasoned.

Daryl had sat down at the small table next to the window and was gazing over at her thoughtfully.

“You sing? That’s why you were here that one time?” He really had been paying attention. 

“Well, that was always my dream until my mama died. I’ve sang in the church choir for years and I used to do the musicals in school.”

Beth had genuinely thought she would have a career as a musician, but then everything fell apart and she’d decided that she wanted to do something for her mom. So she tried to follow in her footsteps as a nurse. Beth’s stage fright that night only made her realize she’d made exactly the right decision. Besides, being a famous singer was a little girl’s fantasy dream and not a real career. Especially when you’re incapable of so much as performing in front of a crowd.

“Did ya pack somethin’ you can wear to one of those bars?” Daryl asked with an odd look in his eyes.

“I think you can get by with jeans and boots just about anywhere here. So yeah, I have something. Why?” Beth had an idea of what he was suggesting, but she didn’t think he would be bringing it up when they were supposed to be hiding and they had both lost their families less than 24 hours earlier. She had let him not say anything about it so far, but he needed to know what was going on. And as far as she could tell, he hadn’t had a chance to call Rick or anyone else back home.

“Maybe tomorrow we’ll go an’ get you yer big break.”

He smiled at her then. Well, she thought it was a smile. It never reached his eyes, but he was trying. He was trying for her. He was going through the same thing and he was still trying to do something for her. 

“Daryl, d’you think that’s a good idea? I mean, I’m supposed to be off the radar, right? That’s probably not the best way to keep me hidden.” Beth knew she should stop there, but she needed to ask, “Are you gonna talk to Rick soon? Just to find out what’s goin’ on back at home...?”

She saw the change in him almost right away. He knew what she was hinting at.

“You mean call an’ see what happened at the yard? I’m not goin’ back and neither are you,” he snapped. “I haven’t had anything to do with anybody that would've been there last night. They’ve been dead to me fer years anyhow.” Daryl gruffly pushed himself up and went to lie down on the bed.

“Daryl, don’t you wanna  _ know _ ? What if they were connected? It’s too much of a coincidence.” Beth kept pushing. If she was honest, she wanted to talk to Rick herself. She needed to know about Maggie and Glenn and T.

“I don’t  _ care _ , Beth. Drop it,” Daryl growled at her before throwing his arm over his eyes.

“If you don’t care, then why’d you go out an’ try to pick a fight with your truck when you heard about them?” She wasn't willing to just let this go.

A quick glance at the clock told her it was barely noon. One good thing about these motels: no check in time. It was going to be a long day.

There was nothing but silence from the other bed. Daryl was still awake but he was refusing to talk to her anymore. Everything that they had built throughout the day was gone, just like that. Maybe it was better this way.

Last night, when she needed something to distract her, he had told her the story about Merle. Did she have any stories like that? Not really… Well, she could always tell him the story about how she found out about her dad's  _ unusual  _ line of work.

“Y’know, it’s kinda funny,” she started, making her best attempt at lightening the mood despite the circumstances. “That dumb trip I took here to Nashville - when I chickened out - it’s kinda the whole reason I found out about the, um…  _ family business _ .”

She paused and waited for a reaction. When there was none, she took it as a sign that he was listening and went on, “I was supposed to be here for five days. But I left after one night and my family wasn’t quite prepared for me to come back early. That’s how I found out… who my father  _ really _ was. I’m not sure who was more surprised, though: him or me. Probably me, I ‘s’pose. I think he always knew I would find out, just not in the way I did. I always hoped he had planned on telling me in a less…  _ macabre _ way.”

Beth looked over at the other bed to see if she had bored Daryl to sleep. He was still laying in the same position with his arm across his face, but her pause caused him to turn his head and fix one of those baby blue eyes on her. 

“I got home in the middle of the afternoon and both my dad’s and sister’s trucks were parked out front, but neither of ‘em were in the house or the barn. We have this older barn that’s a little farther away from the house an’ we mostly use it for storage - Mama always told me to stay away from it because there could be something wandering around in there that I didn’t wanna see.” She laughed quietly to herself thinking of that. As a kid, she’d never even thought to question it. She’d always assumed Mama meant rabid raccoons or dead horses or big scary spiders, something gross or something just sad. She’d never imagined the barn held something that she really, truly did  _ not _ want to see. Something that would change her life forever.

“I saw that the barn door was open so I figured they were down at the old barn an’ I would just run down there and let ‘em know I was back. I remember walking to the door and bein’ confused because I could hear a chainsaw. There’s no reason for my daddy to be cutting up anything in the barn, especially a barn we only ever used for storage. It took me a few weeks to completely put together what I saw that day… It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”

She needed a break before she got to the harder parts of the story. Her throat was suddenly very dry and she needed something to drink. Looking around, she saw that Daryl had brought in a few bottles of water and set them on the table. Beth walked over to grab a bottle and then grabbed a second one to offer to Daryl. He had sat up on the bed when she’d stood and when she turned and offered the water to him, he nodded and took it from her. They shared a small smile before she went back to her own bed. 

“You know those full-face, clear plastic masks they wear in movies when they’re trying to avoid diseases?” Beth glanced over at Daryl and he nodded to confirm that he knew what she was talking about. “So, in the barn, I see my dad and my brother-in law, Glenn, wearin’ those masks and those yellow hazmat suits. They both had their heads down and with the chainsaw running, they didn’t notice me right away. I must have moved just right and caused a shadow or somethin’ because they both stopped what they were doing and just…  _ stared _ at me. That’s when I got a good look at what was on the table that was between them… It was a man. Not even a man, he couldn’t have been more’an a few years older than me. A-a  _ kid _ . I had seen him around the farm before, he would come and help Daddy out when harvest time came around. I don’t even know his name, but there he was laying on a table in our barn… He was…  _ dead _ .”

She could picture his lifeless eyes staring back at her, the blood dripping off the table, and the godawful smell… It was a smell she would never forget. A combination of horse manure, copper, and something she could only describe as the palpable scent of  _ hatred _ .

“Glenn was holding one of his legs, but it wasn’t, um…  _ attached _ to him anymore. Both of his arms were layin’ on the ground and they were about to add a leg to the pile. My dad was standing there, holding a chainsaw that was just  _ covered _ in blood. I didn’t know what to do or think so I just backed away and ran as fast as I could back to the house… I felt like I wasn’t even in my own body. I was just-just somewhere else. And the rest of me was an empty shell. I got in the house and walked into the kitchen and I tried to sit down on the floor, but I think I was in shock and I just fainted. But I didn’t lose consciousness - I jus’ collapsed. An’ then I really  _ was _ trapped in my own head.” 

Now wasn’t the time to get into all of the events that unfolded after that moment. He might not ever get to hear that part of the story. To be honest, she had never told anyone about those following months. Gareth didn’t even know. He had the facts, but he didn’t know  _ why _ everything happened. 

“I was in a  _ ‘state’ _ for days. That’s what my daddy called it. I could see, I could hear, I could understand what was going on around me, but I couldn’t make myself move or even talk. My sister, Maggie, was sittin’ on the bed next to me when there was just - this  _ moment _ . And I was completely back to myself. It was almost like she knew that I was finally free of the invisible shackles.”

Maggie had said that to her maybe a year later: that she had been laying there for weeks, staring into nothing, and then suddenly it was like the chains had fallen off and she was back to normal. Just like that.

“That’s when Maggie told me that she needed to talk and I needed to listen. She told me everything that our family had been a part of. What my great-grandfather started while he was still in Ireland…  _ everything _ .”

Beth hadn’t questioned why it was her big sister and not her mother who had sat with her all that time, who had taken it upon herself to explain the truth to Beth once she came back around; to admit that she’d been basically lied to for her entire life. It had always seemed to Beth that her mama didn’t want much to do with it, and Beth liked to tell herself that she hadn’t - she liked to think of her mom as someone who was above all of that, who had only gotten involved because she’d made a commitment to her husband and her family. But in all honesty, Beth didn’t know for sure. Not really. And she hadn’t particularly  _ wanted _ to know. It just felt normal for Maggie to be the one to sit down and firmly tell her that their family had a ‘really big secret.’

“I listened to all of it. I heard what she had to say and I let her give all of her explanations. And then I got in my car and drove to Atlanta. We have a couple family friends that had just moved there, Dale and Irma, an’ they let me stay with them that summer until I started school and moved into the dorms. I didn’t talk to  _ any _ of my family until my mom and Shawn were killed. I went home for the funerals and finally faced what had been going on… I finally told my dad that I didn’t want any part of this life, I just wanted to finish school and get a job and have a normal life. Away from all of this. Not a life that was filled with severed body parts and illegal activities.”

She had also told her dad that day that she was afraid everything would end in a very bloody fashion and it terrified her. She told him she didn’t want that for any of them. And now, being right felt so, so wrong.

“Yer dad might’ve been into some bad shit, an’ I know his reputation and I know that you don’t cross Hershel Greene unless ya wanna disappear… But he also kept the real bad shit under control. The shit my old man an’ brother did. Yer Daddy wouldn’t’ve done any a that. Someday, we’ll compare an’ see who had the more  _ fucked-up _ family.” Daryl sounded almost combative over this statement.

Maybe he really did respect her dad. And maybe he really didn’t want Hershel’s memory to be a bad one in her head.

“I accepted what my dad did and I understand why he did it, but that doesn't mean I have to be  _ okay _ with people gettin’ dismembered in our barn in order to make it harder to find the body,” she fired back at him. 

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen, then quickly looked at Beth. “It’s Rick.”

Her lips snapped shut and he slid the button to answer before tapping on the speakerphone button.

“Rick. Wanna catch us up?” Daryl barked into the phone.

_ He must not be the ‘hello’ type, _ Beth thought. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna catch ya up alright. Is Beth around? It would be easier if I only had to say this once,” Rick’s calm voice drawled through the phone. Beth suddenly felt a small twinge of home sickness. 

“I’m here, Rick,” she said from her spot on the bed, bracing herself for the bad news that was about to hit.

“Ya doin’ okay?” 

“I’m fine, Rick. Daryl makes a great vending machine breakfast and sometimes he’s a good conversationalist.” Beth smirked at the man across from her.

“I don’t believe that, but at least yer gettin’ fed. Alright so, I’ve got good and bad news for both of you. Who wants to go first?” Rick had put on his Sherriff voice and was ready to get down to the real reason why he called.

“Tell Beth what she wants to know.” Daryl shot her a look that told her not to argue.

“Not much has changed since last night. I can tell you that Maggie and Glenn are safe. I can’t tell you where they are or where they’re going, but they’re alive and they’re together. T is here and workin’ with us. He had the best look at all the men that were there last night and he’s sittin’ with sketch artists so we can get some solid suspects. Otis, Patricia, Morales and Jimmy were killed…”

Rick’s voice trailed off and Beth knew he was silently adding her daddy’s name to the list. 

“It’s still an active investigation but I’ll do my best to keep you updated. Daryl, there was a shooting at the junkyard last night, too. We - ”

“I already heard,” Daryl interrupted roughly.

“Lemme finish: we think they’re connected. They occurred at the same time, same circumstances around ‘em, probably the same group of people who put it together. Too many coincidences for it not to be. Will and Merle were both killed. We’re thinkin’ that everybody that was there last night was killed. Shane is handling the investigation on that end.”

Rick’s voice had an odd tone to it when he was telling Daryl about his family, as though he’d softened the blow for Beth alone. Maybe he was just trying to be gentle with her and he didn’t think she would be able to handle news the way Daryl obviously could.

“Okay, well… they both had that comin’ for years,” Daryl spat.

Beth was shocked at the venom in his voice. He really did hate his family. But that still didn’t explain why he lost his temper this morning when he first heard. His outburst hadn’t been the outburst of someone who didn’t give a shit.

“We’re in Nashville now, movin’ on to the cabin in a few days,” Daryl said simply. “We’ll reach out to you once we’re there. You got anything else important to tell us?”

He was clearly trying to get Rick off the phone. Beth couldn’t figure out why he was in such a rush - it wasn’t like they had anywhere important to be.

“No… that’s it, I s’pose,” Rick replied hesitantly. Then he added, “Beth, we’ve got this. You just keep yerself alive and outta sight. Take care of her, Daryl. I’ll talk to y’all soon.” The line went silent before Beth could answer him.

“Why are you two acting so  _ weird _ ?” Beth questioned Daryl.

“Ain’t  _ weird _ . ‘S jus’ no point in sittin’ around an’ talkin’ about shit we can’t change.”

The look he gave her was practically pleading with her to drop it. She decided she would for now, but sooner or later, she was going to get him to talk to her.

Daryl stared at his phone for a few more moments before shoving it back into his pocket. He looked up at Beth and caught her gaze with his. “Let’s go find us some food. That muffin didn’t really do it fer me.”

She sighed and nodded her head in agreement, then stepped away to slip on her shoes.

It looked like she was going to be stuck with Daryl Dixon for the foreseeable future. And right now, she was actually feeling okay about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment if you can, they really do inspire me to write faster and some of them have inspired a few new plot twists that are coming soon!!!


	6. No Country for Old Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the dead aren't always dead...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a good holiday! I'm excited for everyone to read this chapter!

**No Country For Old Men**

  


_ Beep... _ _   
_ _ Beep... _ _   
_ _ Beep... _ _   
_ _ Beep... _

He had no idea who had set an alarm clock, but once he could get his mind cleared, he was going to take that clock and shove it up their ass. It was probably the same person who had decided to clean. The antiseptic smell that was assaulting his senses was making the continuous noise worse. He tried to yell for someone to stop the fucking noise, but the movement in his throat caused him to choke.

His eyes shot open and he looked around to see that he wasn't at home. The beeping was coming from a monitor that he was currently hooked up to. The choking sensation was all he could think about at the moment, and the fact that he couldn't dislodge whatever was causing it. A feeling he hated - panic - was starting to rise up in him as he tried to paw at the offending object. Suddenly, a face was in his view, young and pretty. If he hadn't been in so much pain, he definitely would’ve been asking her if she’d like to break the bed he was in.

"Mr. Dixon - Mr. Dixon! Please calm down,” the pretty young thing was saying to him. And damn, her voice was just as soft as her luscious lips. If it weren’t for the sensation of choking… “The doctor’s on his way in right now to remove the tube. I need you to calm down so you don't hurt yourself!”

He had so many things he could say to her and so many thoughts, but this damn tube was making everything impossible.

A man in green scrubs came into the room then, followed at the heel by a black woman about his own age. She was carrying a syringe. Before he even had a chance to tell them to get away from him, the woman was injecting the syringe into the IV that he’d only just realized was in his arm.

The man in scrubs was telling him something about needing to calm down and assuring that they would remove the tube. In a whirlwind of things that had suddenly become very fuzzy, the pain in his throat increased and then he was coughing and realizing just how dry his throat actually was.

He needed water before he started telling everyone in this room to go fuck themselves. Well, maybe not the hot brunete that he first saw - he was just going to ask her to fuck him. 

"Mr. Dixon, I'm Dr. Jenner,” the doctor said, calm and firm. “I'm a trauma surgeon here at Grady Memorial Hospital. You were brought in with a gunshot wound to your stomach. We were able to repair the damage and barring any further complications, you should make a full recovery. Do you have any questions for me?" He seemed to be in a rush to get out of the room.

Hell yeah, he had some goddamn questions.

"Yeah, I got a few questions for ya, Doc,” he rasped out at them, scowling. “But I need somethin’ ta drink first - if that's not too hard fer you to figure out." 

The black lady that had put something in his IV walked over with a small plastic cup and carefully brought the straw to his lips. He glared at her while he took three long gulps, the water working wonders on his painfully parched throat.

"Okay, Doc, first off: the name’s Merle. Second: who the fuck said you could make me deep throat a plastic fuckin’ tube?” Merle wheezed out. “You can't jus’ go around  _ shovin’ _ shit down people's throats! It's called  _ consent _ \- you should look it up!" 

Jenner appeared a bit taken aback as he processed everything he had just heard. But then he was frowning and staring down at Merle with a blank expression.

"The National Board of Medical Examiners gave me permission when they decided I was capable of competently and professionally practicing medicine,” he said flatly. “And so did this hospital when they hired me to be a surgeon. And it's a good thing they did,  _ Merle _ , because there are only a few people in the  _ country _ that could have saved your life and I happen to be one of them. So unless you have a medical related question, I’ll see you later on in the day. Until then, there are some police officers here to see you. I’ll be sending them in since you seem to be doing… well, in my  _ professional _ medical opinion, just fine."

Jenner punched a few buttons on the screen of the tablet in his hands before passing it off to the nurse, then he left the room in four long strides.

The drug happy nurse gave Merle a disapproving look and said, "You should be nicer to the man that signs off on the drugs that keep you outta pain, Merle."

"When I want yer fuckin’ opinion, I’ll  _ ask _ for it, Aunt Jemima,” Merle snapped at her hatefully. “I want a new nurse. Preferably somebody several shades  _ lighter _ . Shit, why don’tcha bring back that pretty little thing that was here when I woke up? She’s got the nicest pair a dick-suckin’ lips I ever seen."

Merle was pretty sure he could still get his dick to work in this state. He and that sexy little nurse could act out a few scenes from a porno he’d watched a few months ago. The ideas were already swirling around in his head.

The black nurse pursed her lips at first and he could see her holding back a retort. "That was  _ Doctor _ Winters. Enid is an intern so she will never be your nurse. It's also the middle of the night and there  _ are _ no other nurses here fer you. So you best jus’ get used to this face,” she said, raising her eyebrows and putting a hand on her hip. “My name’s Jacqui. And I think we're gonna be gettin’ to know each other  _ real _ well, Merle… Especially when I remove the catheter from that flaccid little thing you call a penis."

She flashed a big, evil grin and left the room before he could figure out how to respond.

He watched her slip out the door and walk over to the nurse’s station, and that's when he noticed the deputy standing outside his door. Red-haired and skinny.

Yeah, Merle knew that one. He scared easily. Probably wouldn't be the one to come and talk to him either.

He tried to remember how he got the gunshot wound to the gut but he couldn't seem to be capable of pulling up the memories. And getting shot is something you should definitely be able to remember. He should also remember getting tubes shoved down his throat and up his dick, but thankfully those memories were missing as well.

"Hey! Deputy Dipshit! Hey! I know you can fuckin’ hear me. Like yer boss once told me,  _ my voice carries _ !" Merle was determined to get some answers. Like who the fuck shot him, because he’d sure like to go return the favor.

Red turned and poked his head in the door.

"Officers Grimes and Walsh are on their way in. Maybe you should save yer yelling for them," the deputy said before turning back around and staring straight ahead.

" _ Whoo-wee _ ! You mean ta tell me I’m gettin’ the VIP treatment?” Merle announced loudly and sarcastically. “The big guns comin’ ta talk to little ol’ me?! Merle Dixon’s movin’ up in this world, I’ll tell ya what!"

But his outburst did nothing to move the deputy from his post. All it did was bring back his least favorite nurse.

"Merle!” She scolded, her face scrunched up angrily. “You are in the  _ ICU _ . People are fighting for their  _ lives _ in here, and their loved ones are dealing with their worst  _ nightmares _ . You need to quiet down. Get some damn rest while you wait for your guests to arrive." She checked the tubes and monitors he was attached to, shaking her head in disapproval.

"Like I give a shit! Hey, speakin’ a loved ones, where’s mine?” Merle demanded. “Where's my old man an’ my baby brother? I ain’t handcuffed so I know I’m not under arrest. I should be allowed ta have somebody in here. Hell, you could at least call back Dr. Fine-Ass. I bet she’d hold my hand an’ give me a sponge bath." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, cackling at his own joke.

"No, I don't think that’s ever gonna happen,” Jacqui replied, trying and failing to conceal her aggravation. “ _Doctor_ _Winters_ is assisting Dr. Jenner. Helping people that need to be helped.”

Then she stepped back and smiled mischievously at him. “Do I need to check how yer catheter is doing? We don't want that poor little thing gettin’ infected now."

Merle didn’t like how much she was starting to enjoy making his life miserable. He shook his head, scowling and withholding a crude comment.

Deputy Walsh and Sheriff Grimes took that opportunity to walk in. This bitch wouldn't cause him any harm with two officers in the room, would she? Merle decided she wouldn't risk her job like that. Which meant he was safe. For now.

"Officer Friendly an’ Officer Jackass, nice a y’all to come visit,” he greeted, flashing a crooked smile as the officers approached his bedside. “Yer supposed ta bring balloons an’ flowers. Ain’t nobody teach you any manners?"

He was starting to feel some discomfort in his abdomen and he knew his voice and face didn't have the same impact as he was hoping his words did. That didn’t mean he couldn’t still try to get on their nerves.

"Shut yer damn mouth, Dixon. Fer once in yer life,” Shane snarled. “We’re here ta  _ help _ yer sorry ass instead a tossin’ you in a cell like we  _ should _ be doin’."

"Shane, don’t argue with him. We just need ta get his statement so we can get back out there." Officer Friendly had always been good at keeping the peace. 

"Yeah, Officer Walsh, I'm the  _ victim  _ here. You need ta treat me as such. I’m still in a  _ fragile _ state, ya know." Merle loved pushing this particular officer’s buttons. It felt like payback for that time he arrested him for having a pet snake. 

"Where the hell’s Darylina? He should be here holdin’ ol’ Merle's hand." He directed this question to Rick.

He didn't absolutely hate Grimes - not like he hated Walsh. Grimes had looked the other way for him a few times and he sure as hell wasn’t ungrateful. Even though Rick could still be an asshole.

"We'll get ta that,” Rick said. “But first we need to know what you remember about last night."

"Not a goddamn thing,” Merle grumbled. “I ‘member Pops callin’ a meeting… next thing I know, I’m wakin’ up here. Lookin’ into the face of an angel, mind you. But then the other two joined ‘er and - "

"Will called a meeting?” Shane interrupted, his voice coming out almost frantic. “Why’d he call a meeting? D’all of his lieutenants show up ta this  _ meeting _ ?"

"Woah, woah now - that's some privileged information there. Why would the old man have lieutenants? He start ‘is own army or summ’n?" Merle wasn't about to give up  _ that  _ information. 

"Merle, listen,” Rick said, putting on his calm and soothing voice. Merle hated this voice. “We think your family was targeted. Right along with the Greene family. There are nineteen bodies in the morgue right now. Fourteen of ‘em came from  _ your _ junkyard. We need to know why everyone was there."

"We were havin’ a book club meeting. Readin’ that, uh - wha’s it called? Oh,  _ The Handmaid's Tale _ . Ya know, tryin’ ta  _ better _ ourselves an’ whatnot." Merle was glad the little skank he’d kept around for a few weeks had left that book in his trailer and forced him to watch that fucked-up show.

"Yer dad’s one of the men down in that morgue right now, you stupid redneck. Now d’you want us ta help you or  _ not _ ?" Shane was apparently very done with the run-around that the Dixon's were so good at.

"The hell you mean, the Greene Family was targeted? Nobody in this state or anywhere on the East Coast has the balls ta take on Hershel Greene. If they attacked his place then they best start runnin’ fer their lives. ‘Specially if they killed any a  _ his  _ people."

Merle had finally caught up with what Rick said. Even his old man wouldn't ever think about crossing Hershel. He knew about all the dirty tricks and where  _ all _ of the bodies were buried. 

Rick took a deep breath and Shane shot him a look, gauging his mental state. Merle vaguely remembered that Hershel Greene had saved Rick's life once. That was one of the biggest reasons why the old man had always been virtually untouchable: he had all the right people in his pocket. Including Will Dixon.

"Hershel was killed last night as well,” Rick said solemnly. His eyes darkened, showing just how much the death had actually affected him. “They put ‘im on his knees in front a that nice big farmhouse. They killed him right there… in front of everybody."

"Shit... this whole town and the whole goddamn East Coast is about ta be butt-fucked now that he's gone. That old man kept the peace." Merle had gotten to know Hershel well and he had to admit, it was a loss to anyone that knew him. 

A thought occurred to him and his heart rate suddenly shot up. The monitors around him let everyone in the room know just how high his heart rate had jumped, and how quickly.

"Where’s Daryl?” He asked, panic shooting through his veins. “‘S he down in that morgue, too? Did those fuckers go after my brother?"

Merle's vision developed a slight tinge of red at the edges as he thought about some small-dicked assholes hurting his little brother.

"Daryl’s fine,” Rick assured. “He's outta the state and he’ll be stayin’ outta state for the time being."

"Well get his ass on the phone, I need ta talk to ‘im." Merle stuck out his hand expectantly, waiting for someone to hand him a phone.

"Can't do that, Dixon," Shane drawled.

"The fuck you can't! I know you peckers both have ‘is number, so le’sgo." Merle was quickly losing what remained of his patience.

"I can't let you do that,” Rick told him flatly. “Aside from my officers, Dr. Jenner and Dr. Winters, and Jacqui, the world thinks you’re dead. And we need you to  _ stay _ dead. For your brother’s protection."

"I'm  _ what _ ?!" Merle exclaimed.

"Dead,” Shane said, with a little more excitement than what was probably necessary. “Very,  _ very _ dead."

"Yer tellin’ me I gotta pretend to be  _ dead _ ? Someone tried ta  _ kill _ me - succeeded in killin’ my bastard old man - and  _ I’m _ the one who’s gotta play pretend?! Is that what yer sayin’ right now, Deputy Fucks-’Em-All?" There was no way in hell Merle was going to lay in this bed and do nothing while Daryl was out there somewhere, being hunted down.

Rick let out a long breath and turned to look at Shane. 

"How ‘bout you go check an’ see if anything new’s come back from the forensic team yet,” Rick told his deputy. “Lemme talk ta Merle fer a minute. Alone."

He gave Shane a pointed look. Grimes knew the history between Merle and Shane, and he knew that none of them would make any progress if they kept bickering back and forth.

Shane rolled his eyes but silently agreed and left the room. Merle could see him pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he headed for the waiting area.

Once Shane was out of earshot, Rick turned back to Merle and spoke firmly. “Alright, Merle, we’re gonna do this  _ my _ way. I know you have an aversion ta listening to anyone else, but this time yer gonna listen to  _ me _ . Yer ass should’ve been sittin’ in Federal Prison years ago, but I kept you outta there and you best not forget it. If you decide you don’t wanna cooperate, I got no problem findin’ a nice dark hole for you to spend the rest a yer days. We do this yer way an’ you never get to see Daryl again - plain and simple. The only person that’ll hear you talkin’ will be  _ you _ . And I know for damn sure that ain’t something you’ll be able ta handle.”

Rick had taken off the Sheriff mask and was sternly reminding Merle of just how much he actually owed him.

Merle scoffed and quipped, “Well, ya didn’t have ta get so  _ combative _ , Officer Friendly. ‘S there really a need ta threaten to throw me in a hole? I already can’t do much - ya know, bein’ laid up in bed an’ all. Horribly wounded.”

“I need you to just… listen,” Rick said, jaw clenching and eyes narrowing. “No classic Merle Dixon interruptions or stupid suggestions. Just  _ listen _ to me. D’you think you can do that? Just this once?”

Merle slowly nodded his head in agreement. He decided to keep his mouth shut - just this once. Not because he was scared of Officer Friendly or anything like that, though. Only because he’d mentioned Daryl.

“Good,” Rick said, voice low and steady. “Now, Daryl’s fine. I saw ‘im last night an’ I talked to him earlier today. He’s keepin’ Hershel’s youngest daughter, Beth, safe with him fer now. He’s in Tennessee an’ that’s all I’m gonna tell ya - ‘sall I  _ can _ tell you. ‘Cause those two are gonna be the next targets since the farm an’ the junkyard were hit. So Daryl’s doin’ his best to make sure that nobody can find them, and so am I. What this means is… well, I need you to be  _ dead _ . Merle Dixon, yer dead as a goddamn door nail. Whoever attacked you had to’ve thought you were dead, otherwise they’d have finished the job already. And you bein’ dead means they’re gonna make their next move. Takin’ out the two biggest organizations on the East Coast is a power play - you know it as well as I do. Every record that was at the junkyard is missing, the computers are gone, every single cell phone was taken. Somebody is tryin’ ta get  _ all _ yer businesses. Lucky for us, they weren’t able ta get anything from the Greene’s. But unlucky for us, they took out Hershel. That’s a blow that not one of the people you deal with can ever come back from… unless we get ahead of it.”

Rick settled a look on Merle, silently trying to gauge whether the other man was able to comprehend just how serious everything had gotten. Merle continued keeping his mouth shut, nodding curtly. The Sheriff went on:

“I met with an officer in Atlanta yesterday. She’s a real pain in the ass, but she offered to provide protection fer you. And a safe house. You might not remember now, but you saw the people that attacked the junkyard. You’ll be able ta tell us who did this. Then we can start puttin’ some pieces together. If you wanna see Daryl again, this is the way it’s gotta be.”

Rick hadn’t wanted to ask for help, especially not from the Atlanta PD, but this was getting to be too big for him to deal with on his own. It would also be kind of fun to see how Merle and Officer Lerner got along. They’d probably end up killing each other, in all honesty. So Rick figured that it could end up being a win-win for everyone.

“She at least nice ta look at?” Merle asked.

Rick sighed and answered, “She’s a police officer and she’ll be in charge of your safety. I don’t think you need ta worry about how she  _ looks _ . Hell, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have any problem shootin’ you in the head, if it came down to it.” He smiled wickedly. “So I’d leave yer classic little comments outta any conversations you two might have.”

“Alrigh’, Rick… we can play this yer way. Unless somethin’ happens ta Daryl. Anythin’ happens ta my brother an’ there ain’t a person alive that can stop Merle Dixon from huntin’ ‘em down.”

Merle gave a wicked smile of his own back. Then he closed his eyes, hoping Rick would take the hint that he was done talking today.

* * *

He didn’t mean to, but he must’ve fallen asleep because the weak sunlight that had been coming in the window when Rick had been talking to him had changed to bright morning light that filled the entire room. An odd thing to happen when his entire life had seemed to change overnight as well.

He didn’t care much that Will was dead. The old bastard had that one coming. If Will hadn’t been the one pulling all the strings, Merle would’ve killed him years ago. The day he saw the scars that criss-crossed his baby brother’s back should’ve been Will Dixon’s last day on this earth. But he kept all the important parts of the organization in his head or in his precious little personal computer and at the end of the day, Merle knew that killing his dad would inevitably kill the entire family business.

Merle regretted that he chose the money over his brother. But the money paid for the drugs and the women. And those were two things that Merle wasn’t willing to let go of.

Movement at the door to his room brought him out of his thoughts. Jacqui was walking in with a small paper cup in her hand.

“Brought ya your medication, Merle.” She flashed him a mischievous smile and raised her eyebrows. “Are you gonna behave an’ take ‘em, or will I have ta find a more  _ creative _ way of gettin’ ‘em into your system?” She chuckled and added, “There’s always the suppository option, of course.”

He rolled his eyes at her and reached his hand out for the cup without any complaints. He took the pills and swallowed them dry, then he leveled a look at her before turning his head to stare blankly out the window.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Jacqui asked, tossing the paper cup in the trash and leaning against his bed. “I treated you once a while back - when I was still workin’ in the ER. You’ve got a personality that’s… hard to forget.”

“I try ta forget all the nurses that I don’t wanna fuck, an’ I hate ta be the one ta break it to ya sweetheart, but you don’t even make the last woman on earth list,” Merle said.

“There’s that personality I was talkin’ about,” she remarked sarcastically. Then she sighed and explained, “Deputy Walsh brought you in one night. You had a few gashes on yer arm - fell on some glass, apparently. You were so drunk, you told me the story of how you ended up on a sidewalk covered in glass four separate times. I’m assuming you thought you were bein’ smarter than everybody else ‘cause you stole a motorized scooter from a grocery store an’ used it to drive from one bar to avoid a DUI. But when Deputy Walsh saw you driving yer little  _ scooter  _ erratically, he pulled you over. And of course, you tried ta run. And of course, you ended up falling and crushin’ all the beer bottles you had in yer hands.” Jacqui rolled her eyes, then looked down at him with a disapproving frown.

Merle hadn’t thought about that incident in years. He couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, which caused his incision to burn painfully. He folded in on himself, trying to stop the pain and his own laughter.

Jacqui stepped over to one of the machines he was hooked up to and punched a few buttons. A few seconds later, the pain began to lessen. 

“Yer welcome,” she said sharply. “Don’t forget, we’re the  _ nice _ people; we’re the ones who control these nice medications that keep you from being in agonizing pain all the time.”

She looked over his vitals and made a few notes on her tablet and moved to leave his room. But then she stopped and turned around to look at him once more, and the expression on her face was thoughtful.

“You’re not the worse person to come in here, Merle. If you need somethin’, hit the call button. And try to get some rest. That’s the best thing you can do for yourself right now.” With that, she turned around and left the room to head back to the nurse’s station.

Merle remembered that night with the scooter. He’d thought it was one of his better ideas at the time. Turns out, even operating a stupid goddamn scooter is considered driving under the influence. Seemed like bullshit to him, but he still got arrested. And like every other time before that, Daryl was there to pick him up from the drunk tank and get him home.

If this plan of Rick’s meant that Merle would be able to do something for Daryl, then sure, he’d play along. He reckoned it was about time for old Merle to do something for his baby brother anyhow… for a change. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merle's alive!!! Thanks as always to SquishyCool for her amazing beta work. Her fic [Most Wanted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13062762/chapters/29879541) is the reason this fic exists. Give it a read if you haven't already!


	7. State of Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl makes some decisions and has a question or two about Gareth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early and thinking that I might start posting on Sunday all the time. I'm going to be "enjoying" a 12 hour road trip tomorrow. I start back to work in a few weeks and I think posting on Sunday will just be easier. I hope you enjoy this story. Things are starting to come together and the next few chapters are building to one of the big moments I've had planned in my head since the beginning. I hope you are all still enjoying this and seriously the crazy is just a few chapters away!

**State of Grace**

Daryl knew he'd been a dick the day before. Beth didn't deserve for him to treat her that way. But he was trying to keep her alive for Rick. He wasn't here to be her friend.

That first night, he couldn't lay there and listen to her cry. He hated listening to women cry; he used to sit by his mother's side after his father would come home drunk and take out his daily rage on her. Daryl would tell his mom stories about his day and hope that it’d make her smile at least once. Beth had tried to make small talk with him and he’d shut her down, but as he tried to sleep, he could hear quiet sobs coming from the other bed. And suddenly, he was six years old again, wanting nothing more than to help. So he’d told her a story about Merle - the story that led to them being on this crazy trip - and she had actually laughed. Which is why he took the extra step to answer some of the questions she’d been pestering him with. 

He didn’t know how to process what he’d heard on the news. He'd been watching Beth as she processed the massacre at her home, but then the reporter mentioned the junkyard and Daryl was suddenly in the same place she was. It hit him harder than he ever thought it would. His old man had been dead to him for decades now, but Merle… he was still his older brother. Daryl had always known that one day, Grimes would call to tell him that Merle was dead and not just in the drunk tank. But he hadn’t expected to hear it from the TV when he was in the middle of Tennessee playing glorified babysitter to Hershel Greene’s youngest daughter.

Why Rick couldn’t have called in this favor for something stupid, or for someone that wasn’t a beautiful blonde with big blue eyes that were begging him for an ounce of compassion, he would never understand. God liked to mess with him, that was the only explanation that he had. He was going to be stuck in tight spaces with Beth for an indefinite amount of time, so he needed to get away from any notions he might have about the way too young blonde and her blue eyes. 

He hadn’t been able to control his emotions. But he wasn’t going to lose his cool in front of Beth, so he'd gotten away from her as fast as he could. He could punch and cuss at his truck - inanimate objects were okay. They didn’t bruise or scar, they didn’t bleed. Daryl had stood out there and chain smoked, trying to decide what he should do. Part of him wanted to jump in the truck and go back to Georgia, but then he wouldn’t be going after objects with no feeling. He would be going after people and it seemed like enough blood had been spilled already.

No, he would go back in that motel room and tell Beth that they’re moving on a few days early. He needed to be restless right then, he needed to drive. And getting them somewhere new seemed like the best plan. 

Daryl was gradually learning that Beth hated silence. He was always happy to enjoy the peaceful open road, but Beth needed to fill the silence with stories and questions. He didn’t mind them really - she wasn’t just talking about stupid shit like some of the woman he’d been around did. Her stories had some substance and she wasn’t just talking to hear her voice like Merle did. When she'd told him about her failed trip to Nashville, a plan began to form in his head, and it wasn’t a plan that he would usually make. There was something inside of him that was making him want to help her find something good in her life right now. Something really good, not just temporarily pleasing. He wasn’t sure how someone would deal with losing a father that they actually cared about. Losing a loving father like Hershel was something he’d never have to deal with. Especially now. He was supposed to be keeping them out of sight, but he reckoned that taking her to an out of the way bar and letting her get up there and sing shouldn’t cause problems. Plus, he was starting to enjoy the small smiles she would share when she forgot about how shitty her life was at the moment. That’s how he ended up suggesting they find a bar, though she tried to find a nice way to turn him down.

He needed to go back to the original plan. Keep her at arm’s length and ride this out for as long as he had to. 

He should have known that the silence would get to her, but then she’d told him about finding out about Hershel’s darker side. That would’ve even knocked him for a loop and there wasn’t much that could shock him anymore. He realized she was trying to do the same thing for him that he’d done for her the night before. 

Of course she wanted to try and help him. He was quickly learning that’s the type of person she was. His phone ringing was a relief even when he saw it was Rick and he knew what the call would entail. Beth handled everything Rick told her better than most people would have. The girl was stronger than most people. She was surprising Daryl every minute he was around her.

They ended up grabbing some fast food from a drive through and eating it in the parking lot before stopping at a gas station to grab some food and water. Beth wasn’t even bothering to fill the silence. Maybe she was starting to process things and this was her way of dealing. But he was finding this new empty silence to be disturbing, and it was making him want to start filling it with mindless chatter.That definitely wasn’t him. 

When they got back to the room, Beth told him she was going to take a shower. She’d grabbed her stuff and once again locked the bathroom door. That shouldn’t bother him, but he didn’t want her to be worried that he’d barge in. If they were going to be stuck together, they needed to learn to trust in each other.

He was lost in thought, trying to find a way to tell her that she didn't need to worry about him because he wasn’t Will or Merle. 

“So what d’ya think?” Beth was staring at him with an expectant and hopeful look on her face, though he had no idea what he was giving his opinion on.

“Bout’ what?” He asked, hoping that he didn’t look as stupid as he felt.

“I thought about what you said about goin’ to a bar tomorrow night,” she explained. “I don't think I'm ready fer that. I wish I could be, but I'm not. ‘Sides, I think Rick would be pretty pissed at us. Ya know, with the whole layin' low thing." She flashed him a teasing smile. “I just think it’s best we listen to the guy with the badge. Since he’s had this plan with my dad for so long.”

A big yawn split her face, startling her. “I guess that’s my way of sayin’ I’m exhausted!” She exclaimed as she braided her wet hair and laid back on the bed. “Maybe we can find somethin’ non-news related to watch on TV an’ catch up on some sleep,” she suggested. Her eyelids began to droop and she looked like she could fall asleep at any moment.

“Sure,” Daryl grunted. “Here, you find us somethin’.” He tossed the remote on her bed and started unlacing his boots so he could lay back on his own bed.

He pulled off one boot and set it aside while Beth lazily flipped through channels. Just as he’d slipped off his second boot and scooted back on the bed, she burst out at the TV.

“Fuck! Son of a bitch!”

He looked up, startled, to see some medical drama on the screen - one of those that Merle pretended he didn’t watch but secretly did, always keen on who was sleeping with who and who was having someone else’s baby. 

“What?” Daryl asked, concerned that it was something that he’d missed. He immediately assumed the worst, like maybe she was seeing the reflection of men with guns on the TV.

She sighed and shook her head, clearly frustrated. He relaxed a bit as she explained, “Last night, I meant to ask if I could use yer phone and call my work to tell ‘em I wasn’t gonna be back. I completely forgot. And I need ta call my boyfriend before he shows up at my apartment an’ starts calling the cops.”

She hadn’t actually asked, but he heard the question in her explanation.

“Yeah, jus’ make sure ya don’t tell ‘em where we are. Even the boyfriend. Rick would kill me.” He pulled his phone out and handed it to her. 

She reached over and took the phone gratefully. “I know. I promise I’ll be quick. You can even listen in.” She punched in a number and put the phone up to her ear. “Make sure I don’t mess up!”

He nodded and pressed his lips tightly together.

“Olivia - hey. It’s Beth… Yeah, yeah I know I missed my shift today, that’s what I’m callin’ about.” She listened to whatever Olivia was telling her with a perplexed look on her face, slowly nodding. Her blue eyes got a little glassy. He barely knew her, but he was learning what she looked like when she was holding back tears. 

“I’m sorry about missing my shift today. I had a family emergency come up and I forgot ta do anything, I just left as fast as I could. But I know I’ve got a lot of vacation and sick time built up an’ I was hopin’ I could put in for it… I have no idea when I'll be back, it might even be better to just use my vacation time for today and then have you take me off the schedule… I know - I know you can’t keep my job for me, but I really have no clue when I'll be back.” Beth was talking fast, clearly nervous and not enjoying having this conversation right now. 

“Oh, I had no clue. Is she alright? ...How's Andrea handling it? ...Oh. Well if you see either of them, let ‘em know I'm sorry… Okay, I’m sorry again. I really wish I could be in both places at once… Okay, yeah I understand… Thanks. Bye.” Beth hit the button to end the call and looked up, the tears no longer threatening to fall.

“I think I just got fired.” She hung her head and sighed toward the bedspread. “Fuck! I loved that job.”

Daryl wasn’t sure how to respond. She wasn’t really talking to him though, because seconds later, she was punching another number into his phone.

“Gareth… um hey, babe. Sorry, I got your voicemail. Listen, I'll try you again. I lost my cell phone and I’m borrowing one right now. My dad died. I got the news last night and I had to leave. I just didn’t want you to worry about me. I'll try and call you again soon. Um, damn - I really wish you’d answered. Anyways, I gotta go. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Daryl noticed that her accent went away when she talked to Gareth and the way she spoke in general was slightly different. That was strange.

He wasn’t going to say anything, though. He wouldn't have known what to say anyway. Beth wiped her face with the back of her hand and then turned to him with a smile, handing his phone back. “Thanks, Daryl. I figured it’s better to tell ‘em instead of the police havin’ a missing persons report on me.”

She tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a choked sob. He noticed the accent was back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - I dunno why I’m crying! It’s not like we've been dating that long, but I just wanted to hear his voice. And I hate that Olivia basically told me she’s gonna have to let me go ‘cause we're so short on nurses as it is and she can’t hold a spot for me fer some unknown amount of time.”

Daryl shrugged his shoulders at her and offered a half smile. “Never had a job that I cared about that much. Never had anybody I wanted to talk to. Yer lucky, girl. No need ta cry over that.” For some reason, that made her cry harder. Which was definitely not what he’d intended. It was like she knew that his weakness was crying women and that it would keep him talking to her. “Get some sleep. Ya look like yer about ta pass out.”

She didn’t really. She looked like she was about to argue with him, but he just shook his head at her and fixed her with the sternest look he had. “Sleep,” he firmly instructed.

She rolled her eyes at him but a few seconds later, she rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes. Not wanting to disturb her, he walked over and grabbed the TV remote and muted the sound, then turned off the lights before going back to his own bed. It was only 5 in the evening so he wasn’t going to be able to sleep anytime soon. Beth needed the sleep though, so he’d enjoy the silence that might be coming. 

He could hear her breathing getting deeper and steadier. He glanced over and found her sleeping deeply. She looked younger, like she didn’t have a dead father and a lost job and a boyfriend’s unanswered voicemail when she was asleep. He’d try and make sure she kept that peace for as long as he could.

His cell phone lit up and a number he didn’t know popped up on the screen. He silenced it before it could wake her.

Whoever was calling could leave a voicemail if they really needed him. 

~~

Daryl woke with his neck cramping from the position it was in. He’d fallen asleep sitting up so that was going to hurt the rest of the day. Beth had woken up at some point and turned off the TV. She was under the sheets of her bed. Once again, she’d pulled the comforter all the way off until it was lying in a heap at the foot of her bed. He wondered why she hated them so much. He was always hot that he never used the extra blankets, but she seemed like someone that'd be cold most of the time.

Just another detail to add to the unfolding story of Beth Greene, he supposed.

The room was barely lit so he knew it was still early and he should get some more sleep, but once he was awake that was it for the day. He grabbed his phone and saw that the same unknown number from last night had called 4 more times. No messages were left but the number had an Atlanta area code. He had a thought and checked the numbers that Beth had called last night. Sure enough, the second one - the boyfriend - had been the number that kept calling.

Daryl wasn’t sure why he had a bad feeling about it. He wouldn't call it jealousy, but more a sense of protectiveness. That’s what he was supposed to be doing anyway - keeping her safe. Maybe he’d talk to Rick before he let her talk to him again.

Daryl grabbed a quick shower and threw on the clothes he'd worn the day before. It wasn’t like he'd done anything to get them dirty. He thought about getting some breakfast from the vending machine again, but then he remembered the Waffle House right across the street and figured that was better than the expired food he’d find in the machine. Beth would probably enjoy having something hot for breakfast and he was dying for a cup of coffee.

With nothing else to do until Beth woke up, he had time to let his thoughts wander to his brother. Merle had made a choice years ago to stick with their father, but he was still the older brother he’d looked up to for years. Merle was the reason he’d lost his temper yesterday. Daryl had warned him countless times that sticking with their dad and his business would be what got him killed one day… and he’d been right. 

There was that one moment years ago, when Merle had stopped by his trailer without calling and just walked in completely unannounced. He saw the scars that littered Daryl’s entire back - the scars he’d hid from Merle for so long - and he knew exactly how they'd gotten there. He’d looked like he was ready to go find their sorry excuse for a father and kill him right then and there. Daryl wasn’t sure what happened, but the next time he saw the two of them, they were high off their asses and counting stacks of cash. He knew then that Merle would never walk away from their old man for the two reasons he had in front of him: the drugs and the money. That was the day Daryl cut all ties with the Dixon Junkyard and had attempted to cut all ties with Merle, but that never stuck.

He didn’t want that life anymore. He was tired of being the only one that had his head on straight. He didn't want to keep making deals with the cops to keep them out of trouble. He wanted to have a life that he could be proud to live. Didn’t matter to him if the money was gone or his sorry excuse for a family was excluded. All he wanted was to fall asleep at night with a clear conscience. He’d gone back to the trailer and packed up what little he had and loaded it into the back of his truck. He had enough money to stay at a motel for a few nights until he figured out what to do.

After that, he’d found a job working as a mechanic at the big box store in town and used every last penny in his bank account to buy a small cabin on the outskirts of town. Daryl wanted to leave Georgia altogether, but he'd never left their small town and the thought of leaving was something he couldn't get past, so he’d ended up staying. It was what he’d always do for Merle. He might hate what his big brother had done with his life, but Merle was blood and Daryl was always going to remain close.

“Good mornin’.” 

The voice startled him out of his thoughts. He looked over and found Beth sitting up and staring at him, her blue eyes still cloudy with sleep and her blonde hair a mess all over her head. She’d put it into a braid last night, but she must've been moving around a lot because there was more out of the braid than in it now.

“Mornin’. Ya hungry?" He waited for her sleepy nod. “Thought we’d hit the Waffle House fer breakfast.” He jerked his head towards the window, indicating the restaurant across the street. 

A big smile stretched across her face and she jumped out of bed and grabbed her bag. “Gimme 10 minutes!” She declared, rushing into the bathroom and closing the door. She didn’t lock it behind her this time.

_ Progress _ , Daryl thought.

It only took her 8 minutes to get ready before she emerged from the bathroom wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt. She’d managed to tame her hair back into a ponytail and even weaved a small braid into it. She looked happier than she had in the short time he'd known her. 

“I haven’t been to a Waffle House in years! I can already taste the smothered hash browns.” She was practically bouncing with excitement as she came to stand next to him. 

“Well s’go then, don’t wanna deprive ya of that,” Daryl said with a smile of his own. 

It was hard not to share the infectious joy that radiated from the little blonde. It was almost like she was emitting sunshine. She still had some dark clouds hanging around her and those would be there for a long time, he knew. Losing someone she cared about in the way that she did wasn’t going to be easy to deal with. But it seemed that she was trying. He hoped she wasn’t just trying for him, but that she was making the effort for herself as well. 

He grabbed his truck keys from the table he’d tossed them onto last night and made sure that he had the room key in his shirt pocket. She was patiently waiting at the door for him and he grabbed his phone and shoved it in his back pocket. He noticed that it’d lit up again with a missed call and he had a feeling he knew exactly who it was, but right now he was going to go enjoy some strong coffee and waffles with Beth. He’d worry about the feeling that was plaguing him later. 

Breakfast was a quiet affair, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He’d known uncomfortable silence. Spent most of his childhood trying to avoid it. But this was a silence that had no angry words waiting to be yelled or belts waiting to take off another layer of skin. Beth had kept up her happy disposition, occasionally making comments about the food. He’d wanted to tell her about the guy that’d been calling, but he wanted to talk to Rick first. There was something about the amount of calls he’d received that made it feel off. And he could just blame it on not knowing the number if she made a big deal out of it.

Daryl pulled the truck back into the same parking spot it had occupied the night before and grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the center console. He told Beth he’d be in as soon as he finished his smoke. Hopping up to sit on the hood of the truck, he decided to give Rick a call. 

He scrolled through his phone to find the sheriff’s cell number. It rang five times before going to voicemail. He’d try the station before giving up.

The phone was picked up immediately by the one person he was hoping wouldn’t be answering.

“King County Sheriff’s Office, you got Walsh.” The deputy’s voice was tinged with annoyance.

“Walsh, it’s Daryl. I’m tryin ta get ahold of Rick. Got some questions for ‘im. He there?” Daryl wasn’t planning on having a congenial conversation with his least favorite member of law enforcement. 

“He’s uh - he’s a little busy at the moment. Can I have ‘im call ya back?” Shane asked, sounding nicer than he ever had when speaking to a member of the Dixon family.

“Kinda need ta ask him about somebody that Beth wants ta talk to.” Shane would probably know if this guy was okay, but Daryl would rather hear it from Rick. Besides, making the deputy do a little extra work to give his boss a message made Daryl's day a little brighter.

“He’s dealin’ with an…  _ unruly _ … guest. Shit, I don’t even know what ta call her,” Walsh sighed into the phone. “Listen, I’ll tell ‘im ya called an’ he’ll probably call ya right back. Once he’s got Annie Oakley under control, that is.” 

The noise in the background went abruptly silent and Daryl knew that Shane had hung up on him. 

Well that didn’t answer any questions, but it did create new ones about what was going on at the sheriff's station. He'd lit another cigarette and was halfway through it when his phone rang and Rick’s cell number showed up on the screen.

“Rick, you corral yer guest already?” Daryl asked in lieu of a hello.

“What? Corral my guest?” Rick took a moment to try and figure out what Daryl was talking about, then he caught on. “Hell, what’d he tell you? Shane gossips more’an any woman I ever met.” Rick laughed into the phone. “He’s just got his feelin’s hurt ‘cause I won’t arrest someone for police brutality.”

“Do I wanna know?” Daryl asked. If this chick had taken a swing at Walsh, he thought she might be somebody he could get along with.

Rick hesitated, then answered, “Maggie Rhee… Uh yeah, she’s not happy to be stuck here. Shane made a comment and the next thing he knows, the stapler from my desk is flyin’ at his head. She’s worried about her sister so I really need you ta tell me that I ain’t got a reason to fear for my life.”

“Nah, Beth’s fine. Got a dislike fer motel comforters but that’s about it. Just had a question for ya,” Daryl said. “We didn’t talk much ‘bout her using my phone, but yesterday she wanted to call her work an’ her boyfriend. Didn’t want ‘em ta be worried ‘bout her. She got the hospital, but the boyfriend didn’t answer so she jus’ left a message. Now he’s called my phone bout a dozen times. She knows not ta say where she is, but I’m assumin it's okay for her ta talk to ‘im.”

That might’ve been the largest amount of words he’d spoken to Rick at one time. Beth was becoming a bad influence on him.

“Yeah - what’s his name again…? Starts with a G or maybe an R…” Daryl could hear paper rustling on the other end. “Gareth. Yeah, she listed him as somebody that had access to her apartment. Haven’t gotten anything back on him yet, but if Beth wants to let him know she’s okay, I don’t see why not.”

Rick sounded slightly distracted. Daryl could swear he heard yelling in the background.

“Alright. Got anything new I can tell her?” He wanted to be able to give her some kind of news that would keep that spark of hope and joy alive within her. She needed more sunshine and less dark clouds.

“Not a thing,” Rick admitted. “We’re workin’ with Maggie, Glenn, and T on gettin’ ID’s. Did yer dad or Merle ever say anything to you about anybody wantin’ to make a play fer their businesses? Anybody come sniffin’ around that you might know about?” He had a hint of hope in his voice, but Daryl had stayed away for so long that he wouldn’t know anything.

Then he remembered that there  _ was _ something that Merle had said the last time they talked.

“That fancy-ass used car salesman that opened all the lots - ya know, the one Dwight went ta work for?” Daryl explained. “Merle said he'd come by a few times askin’ about sellin’ the lot to him. You know the old man wouldn’t sell. There’s too many secrets an’ bodies buried in that lot. Said the guy made quite a few attempts an’ got a little more aggressive each time. I really doubt a used car salesman could pull off somethin’ like this, though.” 

His friend Dwight had worked with him at the box store for a few months. But when the car dealerships opened up, this guy had gone around to all the shops and tried to get people to come work for him in his garages. Daryl always had a bad feeling about him and he ended up being one of the few that turned down the big signing bonus and raise. Hell, he refused to even meet with the guy. Dary hadn’t seen Dwight much since he went to work for him. Hadn’t heard from his wife Sherry either. She used to send a text every week or so to check on Daryl and make sure he was eating. The texts had stopped a few months ago.

“I’ll take anything right now,” Rick said. “Yeah, the guy's name is Negan. Bought a car from ‘im an’ regretted it within the week. Maybe this’ll give me cause to arrest the bastard.” 

Daryl laughed and then looked up to see Beth standing in the window of the motel room. She was staring at him like she was confused about what he was doing just sitting on the truck acting like a damn teenage girl chatting on the phone.

“I gotta go, man. Lemme know if somethin’ comes up that I can tell Beth.” Daryl hopped down off the truck and gestured with one finger to let Beth know that he would be back in soon.

“Will do, tell her hi for me,” Rick said before hanging up the phone.

Daryl made his way back into the room and tossed his keys and cigarettes onto the table. It was still early in the day, but what the hell could they do to kill time when he was supposed to be keeping her out of sight?

“Talkin’ to Rick?” She asked from where she was perched on the chair. He nodded to her and sat down in the chair across from her.

"Said to tell ya hi," Daryl replied.

“Anything new?” Beth asked with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

“Nah… ‘cept yer sister’s raisin’ hell an’ throwin’ staplers at the station,” he said. “But from what I've heard, that’s just her. Right?”

He was hoping that hearing something about her sister would help. Maybe it would bring back the genuine smile that had been there this morning. Beth burst out laughing and shook her head at the news.

“Yeah, that’s Mags. She’s got a temper when you try ta tell her what to do.” She was still laughing as he slid his phone across the tabletop to her. 

“I think yer boyfriend’s been tryin’ ta call ya back. Didn’t know the number so I kept ignoring it. Realized it must’ve been him. Maybe you can catch ‘im.” Talking to Rick had alleviated the uneasy feeling he had about the guy. “Jus’ remember, don't tell him where we are.”

He stood up from the table and went to stretch out on the bed. Nothing else to do but sleep and watch TV. He needed to check on the cabin rental, but he’d need his phone for that and Beth was staring down at it like she wasn’t sure she even wanted to make the call.

“Don’t have ta call if ya don't wanna.” She must’ve been lost in thought because his voice made her jump and look over at him guiltily.

“I just don’t know what ta say. ‘Hi, sorry but I’m gonna be gone fer a bit’? He knows my dad and I’m sure he’s seen the news by now. Who just  _ leaves town _ after their father dies?” She looked like she was about to cry just thinking about it.

“Like I said, you don’t have ta call. If he got yer message last night, he knows what’s going on.” He wasn’t trying to convince her not to call him, definitely not. He was just offering some advice. 

“Yeah, I do,” she sighed in resignation. “Okay, here goes.” The phone was back in her hand and she was punching the numbers in.

There was silence in the room for a few seconds and then Beth sat up straighter in her chair and her shoulders tensed. “Gareth, hey.” Her voice had taken on an odd tone and her accent was smoothed out again. That annoyed Daryl more than anything. There was a long pause and she kept nodding her head in agreement.

“Yeah, I know... I’m sorry… No, I just had to get away. I’m fine though, I just didn’t want you to come over and start worrying about me.” She was appearing more and more defeated by the moment. “No. You don’t need to come stay with me. I just wanted you to know I’m fine.” Her smile had faded into a grimace by this point and there was an ever-growing part of Daryl that wanted to take the phone from her and tell Gareth to fuck off. But that was the idiot voice that had been invading his head over the past few days.

She was quiet for a long time, listening and folding in on herself a little more with every second that went by.

Finally, she must have gotten sick of whatever he was saying and she cleared her throat to interrupt him. “Um, I’ve gotta get goin’. I’ll call ya again soon. Okay. Jus’ don’t worry. I’m fine. Bye.”

The ‘bye’ was almost a whisper, as though she were afraid he would come through the phone if she spoke too loudly. The only good thing was that her accent came back when she’d finally had enough of him.

She sat the phone back on the table after ending the call.

“Ya alrigh’?” He asked while taking in her downcast eyes.

“Yep, fine. He’s just worried about me.” She plastered on a fake smile, the kind he’d learned to detect and see through when his mom used to try the same trick.

“ _ Uh-huh _ ,” he grunted.

He watched her walk over to her own bed and lay down. She didn’t look over at him. She kept her eyes glued to the ceiling. 

He recognized the feeling he had now. It was a feeling that he’d grown up with. Everytime his old man was around his mom and everytime he left her broken on the floor, he’d experienced the same feeling. It was a feeling that he never wanted to have again, but here he was: stuck in a room with a girl who he wanted nothing more than to protect her, to keep her from feeling even an ounce of what his mom had felt. 

“You sure ya don't wanna go out somewhere tonight?” He’d just gotten off the phone with the sheriff that would have his ass for suggesting this to Beth, but if he couldn’t keep her safe at a small bar where no one knew them, then Rick needed to get someone else out here with her.

“I dunno,” she muttered listlessly. “I don't see anything  _ magical _ happening as far as me suddenly gettin’ over my stage fright. Maybe we just stay here. You can tell me this plan of yours, or more stories ‘bout yer brother… I mean, if you want.”

Beth had been so self assured and happy this morning and now it was like she was afraid to even talk to him.

He wasn’t going to let this asshole break her like he’d watched Will do to his mother - to the point that she’d had enough and set the house on fire along with herself. Daryl might’ve just met Beth, but he’d always said that he would never let someone else feel like his mom had every day. For the foreseeable future, it was just him and Beth. And he was going to make sure she knew that she was better than how that guy made her feel.

“Maybe we can just get some food again tonight and watch TV?” Beth suggested. “Order a pizza.” Her blue eyes were hopeful. 

“Sounds good to me. Lemme know when ya wanna order.” Daryl looked over at the clock on the shared night stand and chuckled. “It’s only ten in the mornin’ - any ideas on what ya wanna do fer the rest of the day?”

Beth glanced at the clock herself and laughed. She had a mischievous expression on her face when she looked over at him. “We could go get some nailpolish and give each other mani/pedis,” she suggested.

“No! No we  _ can’t _ do that,” Daryl objected. Crazy ass woman trying to paint his toes. He could hear Merle’s voice in his head if he ever let that happen, ‘ _ Pussy-whipped, limp-dicked bastard. Lettin’ some little girl paint yer nails? Thought you was a man?’ _

Yeah, he didn’t need to have that internal conversation anytime soon. Even dead, Merle could be very annoying. 

Beth laid her head back on the pillows and sighed. “I know we haven’t done much, but I could really just curl up an’ go back to sleep.” She looked over at him like she didn’t think he would be okay with that.

“Girl, if ya wanna sleep, then go ta sleep.” Daryl knew he wouldn’t be doing that anytime soon. But she was working through a few things and if this is how she wanted to grieve and deal with it, then she could sleep 24 hours a day.

She flashed him another small smile and he saw that her eyes were already starting to fall shut. She was out before he had time to say anything else.

Daryl grabbed his phone and sent an email to the guy he was renting the hunting cabin from. He wanted to see if they could head up there tomorrow.

Out of the city and tucked away in the mountains, he would be more comfortable. He could finally let his guard down a little. He was always calm when he was in the wild. They could have more freedom up there, they wouldn't be stuck in a small room with nothing more than one another and the TV to keep them company. Maybe once he got her up there, she would find better ways to deal with her life and the shit hand that had just been dealt to her. He’d brought his crossbow and some hunting gear, maybe he could get her out in the woods - grief therapy by nature or something like that.

He had a feeling that things would definitely change once they got out of the city. They just had to find a way to get through today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my beta SquishyCool, she keeps me on track and reminds me to use a thesaurus every now and then! Please leave a comment, they really make my day and I'm going to be bored in a car for 12 hours tomorrow so all the love will make me less likely to lose my mind.
> 
> If you have Tumblr, [I'm there too](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/courtneyshortney82) come give me a follow, I tend to talk a bit about In My Blood and I love to share my personal fic recs!


	8. The Irishman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth remembers the days and weeks after her gruesome discovery in the barn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real life happened this week and it's all because of my amazing bestie and beta [SquishyCool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquishyCool) that this chapter is making it out on time! Thankfully I was a few chapters ahead and she was able to work her magic and one of my more loved chapters is posting today! If you haven't read any of her works, check them out! She's the author I strive to be one day!

**The Irishman**

Beth perfected the art of fake sleeping in high school. She had a love of books and would stay up to all hours reading, but her parents caught on when she kept falling asleep at the breakfast table. They would get up and check on her to make sure she was actually asleep and not reading. So she’d gotten clever about it - she had her posture, breathing, and facial expression perfected.

After breakfast and her phone call with Gareth, Beth just wanted to download her brain. Being rude to Daryl wasn't an option so she played the sleep card. All she wanted was a little bit of time to sort everything out in the privacy of her mind. When she let her thoughts take over and the feelings build up she, went to a place she didn't want to be. And that place had already taken more from her than she wanted to admit. 

Her conversation with Daryl last night was still playing in her head, bringing back memories from that time in her life. She wished she could go back to that time now. She would try to be more understanding and accepting. If Beth had tried to accept what Maggie told her, she wouldn't have wasted all that time away from her family. Time she could have back with Shawn, Mama, and now her daddy.

The actions she’d taken back then and the pain she’d caused everyone was something she couldn’t ever take back, but at the time it was the only way to stop the horrible thoughts in her head. She had been weak and out of control, but at the time it had seemed like the best idea. Daryl probably wouldn’t understand that time in her life. The way he talked about not having a favorite food because he was just happy to have food, the hatred she could feel radiating off of him when he talked about his dad - it wasn’t hard to make the connection and figure out that he’d had a hard life. But he still didn’t seem like the type to let the world and all the dark things take over and lose himself.

No, he wouldn’t understand. She didn’t want to look weak to him. She wasn’t going to be a burden to him. Because she knew that as soon as he knew what had happened, he would look at her with pity and probably a little disgust. Either way, she didn’t want to see what his reaction would be.

Beth had started believing that the worst nights of her life were gone; the night she’d gotten the call from Maggie about Mama and Shawn being killed in a car accident. The night she’d realized that her dad wasn’t the man she always thought he was. He was no longer the father that had dressed up as Santa, taught her how to ride a horse, and bandaged her cuts when she fell and scraped her knees. He was a man capable of murder and dismemberment. 

That afternoon and the following night had never been very clear to her. She held bits of memories, like an assortment of puzzle pieces that fit together but only formed a fuzzy image. Maybe if she had someone to talk to, she could get it all laid out. But how do you make that appointment? What do you say to someone when they ask why you’re there? ‘ _ Hi, my name is Beth, and I just saw my dad and brother-in-law cutting up a dead body in our barn and then my sister told me that my dad was an honest to God mob boss. Yeah, my dad was like a real life version of the Godfather. My sister is in on the business as well. My brother and my mom just turn a blind eye to what happens. _ ’ No, it would never happen. Beth knew that the only thing she would get out of an appointment like that would be a 72-hour hold.

If only she were alone right now, she could toss and turn and sigh and punch her pillow. But she wasn’t, so she had to pretend to be sound asleep. Daryl wouldn’t annoy her with questions like she’d done with him, but she just needed to be in her own little space right now. If he were someone with a different personality he might be someone she could talk to; he had to have some knowledge in the world she’d been thrust into. But he just didn’t seem like someone that would willingly want to sit down and have her pour her deepest issues out to him. She hadn’t found that person in her life, though she was still holding out hope. Maggie had always been the person Beth talked to when she was growing up, but after that night - when she’d laid everything out for her - Beth just couldn’t look at her big sister the same way ever again.

She could replay the fuzzy pictures from those weeks any time she wanted to, but she avoided it if she could. Tonight however, she needed to rip that old wound open and deal with it. Maybe there was something she had heard or seen that could help. Or maybe she could just deal with what was going on by letting the memories take over for once.

* * *

_ Beth wasn’t entirely sure how she made it back up to the farmhouse. She couldn’t get the vision of that guy’s vacant stare out of her mind. Then there was all the blood and the terrifying sounds the chainsaw had been making. Maybe she stumbled up to the house in an effort to convince herself that she’d just hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe she thought she’d walk into the kitchen and find her dad sitting there talking to Glenn about the harvest season and how they were going to handle it this year. Mama would be bustling around starting to prepare dinner and Maggie would be sitting by taking everything in. _

_ When Beth walked into the kitchen, she did find her sister. But Maggie was standing there like she’d been waiting for her. Maggie approached her much like she would a wounded animal. And that’s when it started to feel like Beth had a heaviness taking over her body. She wasn’t able to move or speak, she’d suddenly lost the ability to think straight. And then her legs were giving out from under her and she simply gave into the darkness that was consuming her. _

_ Voices. So many different voices all the time. It was constant. Then it would be quiet for a long stretch of time. And then the constant voices would come back. She recognized her mama’s voice - and Shawn’s. Their voices usually surrounded her when the light was coming in the windows. But focusing on something or someone wasn’t possible, she’d tried it once and it made her so dizzy that she wanted to throw up, though she wasn’t sure that was possible. She felt them getting her up every hour or so, taking her into the bathroom and making sure she moved her legs to avoid a blood clot. Beth could remember hearing Mama’s voice say that: “We need to keep her moving. My aunt died from laying in bed when a clot went to her lung.” So they walked Beth around like she was just learning again. They brought food in for her and she went through the motions of eating it, though she couldn’t taste anything and she never actually felt like she was hungry or thirsty. She didn’t feel anything at all. Her daddy had hooked her up to an IV to keep her hydrated, so the hourly bathroom trips were welcomed. After that first night, she was able to function like a normal person. But she remained locked in her own head. Inside, she was screaming at them and demanding answers. But on the outside, she was just… there.  _

_ Days went by like that. She was trapped and she couldn’t find her way out. She thought maybe they could see it in her eyes - how she was terrified and unable to figure out why she was stuck. Daddy would come everyday and sit with her for hours. He always apologized to her for what happened, but that’s all he said about it. He never went into any further explanation, just that he was ‘so sorry that he had frightened her.’ Yeah, that’s what happens when you see the man you had placed on a pedestal all your life chopping up a body. Maggie would come in after him and make promises to Beth that as soon as she was back to normal, she would tell her everything. She was tired of hiding the truth from her. _

_ How long had they been hiding the truth from her? Was this something new or something she’d been born into? Fuck! She needed to get out of this mental quicksand. She needed some real answers.  _

_ She was literally stuck in her own head for weeks. Then one day, she was finally able to collect all of her thoughts and sort them out into some sort of meaningful order. No one had come in to talk to her yet, but then there was a knock on the door. Maggie was coming in and sitting down on the bed. _

_ “Hey, Bethy.” Her older sister’s voice was soft and tentative. “I really need you to come back to me. This house isn’t the same without you runnin’ up and down the halls, singin’ every damn song that comes into your head.” She traced patterns on the comforter with her fingertip, sighing quietly. _

_ Every detail was coming back to Beth as she looked at her sister. Maggie’s shoulder-length brown hair was tucked behind her ears and she’d applied some makeup so she was probably going to see Glenn at some point today. The green shirt she was wearing was one of Beth’s favorites - she always told Maggie she should wear it more because it made her eyes brighter. She had on jeans that Beth wasn’t sure she had seen before and her worn-in brown leather cowboy boots. _

_ Maggie must have noticed something had changed because she was leaning her head down to look Beth straight in the eyes.  _

_ “Hey. Please tell me you know who I am.” Maggie spoke to her like she had suffered a head injury. _

_ Beth tried to talk, but she hadn’t used her voice in weeks so it came out as a low growl. She shook her head and looked around for something to drink. There was a glass of water on the table by her bed, Shawn had brought it up with him last night when he came to tell her goodnight. It was going to be warm and stale by now, but anything would be better than the sandpaper that currently occupied her throat. _

_ Maggie saw what she was looking for and grabbed the glass and handed it to her. Beth took several long gulps of water, stopped, took a deep breath, then finished what was left in the glass. She decided to try again now that she had something besides sandpaper in her throat. _

_ Her voice came out weak at first. “Yes, I know who you are. You’re my sister, Maggie.” She managed to speak a little louder as she went on, “And I want some answers right fucking now.” She wasn’t able to yell, but she put enough force behind her words that she hoped it had the same effect. _

_ Maggie must have been expecting this reaction, or something close to it, because she barely flinched. But then she nodded her head. She’d promised to explain, after all. She needed to keep that promise. _

_ “Alright, but I’m gonna talk,” she said sternly. “You’re gonna listen and you’re not gonna interrupt. It’s just easier if I can get it all out. Promise me you’ll listen and I'll tell you everything.” She straightened her back and stared down her nose intently at Beth. _

_ Beth stared back for a few moments, trying to decipher Maggie’s face. Then she nodded and it was like a silent cue for Maggie to start dismantling everything that Beth had ever believed to be true. _

_ “Daddy’s great-grandparents came to America from Ireland, I know you’ve heard the stories. The reason they came wasn’t for the American Dream, though. It was because he had an uncle that had started a business in Boston. This uncle didn’t have any children and he didn’t wanna leave his business to the people that worked with him so he wrote Daddy’s great-grandpa a letter. He sent some money for the boat and the train once they made it to Ellis Island. And our great-great grandfather packed up what little his family had in Ireland and came to the United States. That’s how this whole thing started for us - for the Greene’s.” _

_ Beth nodded her head silently. She’d heard the stories about her family having to leave Ireland because of the famine. She’d always been told that it was for a small family business. Which, she guessed, was partially true. But she’d always thought the business was something far less… violent. _

_ “That’s how cities ran back then, Bethy,” Maggie explained. “A mob boss would come in and try and keep order while keepin’ their friends comfortable.” _

_ Beth rolled her eyes at her big sister. Was she already trying to sugarcoat this? _

_ “The business had grown bigger and so had the profits, so they kept expanding their territory,” Maggie continued. “It wasn’t long till the Greene Family was the largest organization from Boston all the way down to Florida. When our great-great-grandpa got here, his uncle sent him down to Georgia. ‘Cause back then, nobody looked for you in the south. That’s how we ended up here.” _

_ At least the farm being passed down from generation to generation hadn’t been a lie.  _

_ “I’m not gonna lie to you and tell you that we’ve always stayed outta the… messier part a things,” Maggie frowned. “But we have changed. Our family moved a lot of the alcohol that was consumed on the East Coast during Prohibition. We’ve always been a gun supplier. Over the years, as times changed, so did the business - but that’s one thing that’s never changed. I know that guns aren’t the best thing to be supplying these days, but we try to make sure that the weapons we move never fall into the wrong hands. We really do try. But once they’re out of our possession, we can’t control whatever happens next.” _

_ Maggie stopped to take a deep breath, glancing away with a hint of uncertainty. But she quickly retained her confidence and stared at Beth. She went on: _

_ “Daddy found out about the business when he was fourteen. Fer a long time, he just thought that his dad was always away on business trips - which he was, but not the business he’d thought. He stayed for a few years after he found out, but he didn’t like the things that Grandpa was into and he refused to take part in it. I know you’ve heard him say that he left and didn’t step foot back on the farm until Grandpa was in the ground. And that’s why.” _

_ “When Grandpa died, Daddy had no plans of taking over the business. But a few of the guys that worked for Grandpa told Daddy about the people that were most likely gonna be taking over. They were into even worse stuff than Grandpa,” Maggie’s green eyes flickered with intensity. “So Daddy stepped in as head of the family… Not just our family. Beth, our dad is the head of one of the largest crime families in the country. He’s legitimized a lotta the business, but he still helps with the illegal imports, he still moves the guns. But the most important thing is that he keeps the other heads in line. When he stepped in, they all had a meeting in Boston, and whatever Daddy told them at that meeting has kept anyone from ever crossing him. The human trafficking stopped completely when he took over. The drug trading declined. We supply a few dry counties with bootleg liquor, but - it’s not nearly as evil and awful as it sounds. The fact of the matter is… he might do a lotta things that you can’t agree with, but he also does a lot of good.” _

_ Beth couldn’t listen to any of the good points that Maggie was trying to point out to her. Yeah, it sounded like her dad had changed a lot of things, maybe a few for the better. But that still didn’t explain why there was a dead man being dismembered in the barn. _

_ “Tell me about the guy in the barn,” Beth said quietly. “The one your husband was helping Daddy dismember.” She wanted the real answers. _

_ Maggie sighed and looked away. “That guy was one of the runners. His job was to pick up the guns and take ‘em to a drop-off in Virginia. But Daddy found out that he was holdin’ back one or two guns from every run and sellin’ ‘em on the black market for his own profit.” She met Beth’s eyes again, a somber expression on her face. “That usually wouldn’t be enough for Daddy to take the action he did, but he had Glenn follow the guy for a few days. Turns out he was beatin’ his wife and his kids - you know how Daddy feel about that kinda shit. And on top of that, the asshole was helpin’ one of the families Daddy has an agreement with to smuggle women in from third world countries, goin’ behind his back… He was helping sex traffickers, Beth. While workin’ for us. That’s why he’s dead in the barn. I know you don’t understand how this could be acceptable in any way, but Daddy took out someone that was hurting a lot of people. Hopefully, that guy being dead in the barn will mean slowing down a part of the sex trafficking business.” _

_ Maggie was right: Beth didn’t understand and she didn’t think that one man’s death could be seen as protecting people. Maybe this was more than her 18-year-old brain could process at the moment, but loss of human life was still a very big deal to her. _

_ She blinked and responded indignantly, “So yer tellin’ me that every new pair of shoes, every new pair of jeans, every lunch I bought at school - it was all paid for by mob money? My entire life has been funded by this back-alley mafia, and you think that one conversation about the truth - after lying to me fer my whole life - is gonna just… explain it all? That I’m gonna accept it and be okay?” Beth shook her head like she was trying to dislodge everything she had just heard. _

_ Maggie huffed out a frustrated breath and stood up, barely glancing at her little sister. “Maybe not. But I’d hoped you were finally old enough to understand. I guess I shoulda known better.” _

_ She was shaking her head. She walked to the bedroom door and paused. Then she turned back to say one more thing. _

_ “You had a good life because of this, Beth. I told Daddy you weren’t ready to hear it, but he said you had to know. I'm glad I wasn’t wrong - yer actin’ just like I said you would. You need to learn how to comprehend things like an adult. It’s time to grow up. Stop lookin’ at everything like the sheltered little girl you’ve always been.” _

_ She stormed out the door, her angry footsteps echoing from the stairs. _

_ When it came down to it, Maggie’s last statement about being an adult was what propelled Beth out of bed and into action for the first time in weeks. She grabbed her suitcase out of the closet and the two duffel bags she kept under her bed and packed all of the clothes she thought she’d need. Pictures, books, anything she might want for however long she planned to be gone went into the luggage. She took a much needed shower and put on clothes that weren’t old pajamas. And for the first time since she came home from Nashville, she felt like herself again. Her world had been shattered, but she felt like she was back in her own skin and the inner workings of her head were beginning to make sense again. And she knew that she had to leave. _

_ Her mama had seen her loading her bags into her car. Annette came out onto the porch to catch Beth before she could run off. _

_ “Come here, Bethy. I know you need to leave, but can’t I have just one moment with my daughter?” Beth’s mama asked with a sad smile on her face. _

_ Beth stopped on the stairs and turned back to see Mama motioning to the old porch swing. _

_ Of course she would give her mother anything she wanted. She was upset and hurt that she had been lied to her entire life, but that didn’t mean she was willing to lose everyone she loved. So she sat down next to her mom, immediately taken back to countless memories of sitting next to her after school when she’d had a hard day. Mama had always let Beth use her shoulder to cry on whenever she’d had her heart broken, and just a few weeks ago when she told her how proud she was of Beth for graduating top of her class. This conversation was going to be very different, but Beth knew it would be cemented into her brain just like all of the others. _

_ “I know you’re upset, and I can’t imagine what you’re thinking,” Annette spoke softly, gazing down into her daughter’s eyes with understanding. “I had the same reaction when I found out what Hershel was really doing for a living, that all of those trips weren’t really for Veterinary conferences. I almost wish he’d told me he was havin’ an affair rather than all this… but then he told me about all the people he was helping. He’s done bad things, Bethy, but he’s done just as much good to make up for it. Your dad set up safe houses in Boston in the eighties for anyone diagnosed with AIDS - people who were ostracized and treated like lepers. Because he couldn’t bear to let them go hungry and live on the streets, he refused to see people being treated as anything less than human beings. Listen… I’ve had to learn to take the good with the bad. I’ve always refused to have any part in the bad things an’ I’m sure you’ll see that as me just turning a blind eye. If I can’t change your mind, so be it. But I love Hershel. And I made the decision a long time ago to keep him in my life. Because he makes it better.” _

_ Beth sighed, wringing her hands nervously in her lap. “Mama, I get what yer sayin’, but I’m thinking you found out in a different way than I did. Maybe if you’d decided I was capable of knowin’ the truth years ago, I wouldn’t have had to see what I saw. Do you think I want every good memory I have of Daddy to be tainted by this one thing? I can’t unsee any of that, and now I can’t unhear any of the things that he’s done.” Tears were welling up in her eyes so she closed them. She laid her head on her mama’s shoulder, holding the tears back and praying they wouldn’t fall until she was in her car and heading somewhere else. “I just need time… I know it’s not what you wanna hear, but I need time to myself. Time to figure out how I can accept all of this.” _

_ Annette rested her head on top of her daughter’s. “I know you do, sweetheart. I knew that’s what you’d need when I found out your sister was tellin’ you. I just wanted to make sure you know that I love you. And I called Dale and Irma - they live close to your school. They’ve got a loft apartment over their garage that’ll be yours until you start school. Just do that much for me, please. I'll sleep better at night knowin’ where you are.” She laid her hand on Beth’s knee in a gesture of understanding. _

_ “That’s who I was gonna call when I got on the road anyway,” Beth said. “Mama, this isn’t towards you. I’m not permanently running away from our family. I’m just takin’ a little… break. To try an’ wrap my head around this new world I’m supposed to be okay with living in.” _

_ Annette voice was choked by a repressed sob. “I know, baby.” _

_ Beth knew if she didn’t leave right now, she wouldn’t ever make it off the farm. She stood up, then grabbed her mother’s hand to help her stand up before wrapping her up in a big hug. _

_ “I love you, Mama. I promise I won’t be gone long.” She pulled away from her mom and noticed the tears in her eyes. She suddenly felt like someone had punched her in the gut, seeing how she’d made her mama cry like that. _

_ “I love you too, Bethy. Now get goin’ before I find a way ta keep you here!” Annette gave her a slight push towards the stairs. _

_ Annette stayed on the porch and watched as Beth got into her car. She waved as her youngest daughter pulled out of the gravel drive and drove away.  _

_ Beth never came back to the farm while her Mama was alive. She’d tried to a few times, but she couldn’t face the horror she’d seen there. The Greene Family spent holidays and birthdays in Atlanta with Beth. She never asked them to, but they always came up with some reason why it was the best plan. The guilt she felt for forcing her family to uproot all of their traditions took its toll on her and eventually led to decisions she wished she’d never made. _

_ The next time she came to the farm was the day after Annette and Shawn were killed in the crash. The barn still loomed over the entire property, just like it did in her mind. But her family needed her and she refused to be afraid of this place anymore.  _

* * *

At some point, getting lost in her memories caused Beth to fall asleep. She had dreamed about that last day on the farm and how she wished she had stayed a little longer and let her mom talk her into staying. It might not have changed things, but it would have given her more time with her. She hated that she let the fear of the unknown rob her of so much time.

That’s how she’d always lived her life. Still to this day. Daryl had extended an olive branch to her and offered to take her somewhere to try and conquer a little part of her fear and she had shut him down with the suggestion of pizza. It was time to start facing her fears and living up to the Greene name. She might not believe in everything that came with that name, but she was determined to live up to it now.

Beth rolled over and opened her eyes to see Daryl starting at the TV, somewhat engrossed in whatever he was watching. He noticed she was “awake” and paying attention to him and glanced over at her, raising his eyebrows.

“Hey,” she said, slowly sitting up and stretching her arms and legs.

He didn’t answer, nodding in acknowledgment. She was accepting the fact that he wasn’t always going to be the most talkative person, but she was also learning that just because he wasn’t vocalizing things didn’t mean anything negative. His relaxed posture conveyed that he was comfortable.

“So, I was thinkin’,” she said casually. “There's a few people out there wantin' to kill me and prob’ly you, too. Goin' to a bar might not be the best idea right now, but one day I'd like to try. Maybe if we survive this, that's how I could start to take back my life. And, ya know - you could be there, too…"

“You was thinkin’ ‘bout all that while pretendin’ to be asleep?” Daryl asked with a small smile.

Beth started laughing. Apparently he wasn’t as easily fooled as her parents had been. She smiled at him and shrugged. He gave an odd sound that she assumed was a laugh and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. 

“It always worked on my folks,” she admitted shyly. “It's somethin' I do now, it keeps my head clear an’ lets me think."

"Well, if we survive this an' you still want me ta take ya someplace to get over that stage fright, then I'll do it," he said with one of his half smiles. 

_ "We all got jobs to do, Bethy."  _ Beth would always hear her daddy telling her that. And right now, her job was to survive one day to the next. Then she was going to live her life and not be scared of who she was and who her family was.

That's how she would do her job. As a Greene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Next week is a check in with Rick and Maggie. There's also a few cameos and introductions to new characters that I think you all will love!
> 
> I've been lucky enough to get to be part of the new team running Ultimate Bethyl Fic List and if you didn't know we are taking nominations for the Moonshine Awards until the 26th! Check out that Bethyl tag and go nominate your favorite fics and authors if you haven't yet. There have been so many amazing creations this year make sure they get the love they deserve. You can vote [HERE](https://bethylficlist.survey.fm/2019-moonshine-awards-nominations)


	9. In My Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the most expensive trips to a liquor store, getting to know each other, and of course the cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last week I said this would be a Rick chapter and I was wrong. I doubt anyone will mind some more Beth and Daryl! This is the longest chapter yet for this fic and it has a little bit of everything in it! Beth and Daryl get closer and a character who deserved so much better in the show gets some love.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: There is a mention of self harm/suicide attempt in this chapter.

**In My Blood**

Daryl hated to wake her up, but it was getting late and he was getting hungry. The look she’d given him when she was talking about ordering pizza had been like a puppy seeing a jar of treats. Her blue eyes had gotten wide and lit up like he hadn’t seen them do before. Like pizza was the best thing in the world. Hell, it might be.

While she'd been sleeping, actually sleeping this time, he’d gone to the front desk and asked where the best place to get pizza was. The kid at the desk told him about a small place a few miles away - just a hole in the wall spot and if more than four people got there before you, well you'd better have somewhere else to eat. Daryl had gotten the number, assuming he could just order and have it delivered, but this place was so small that they didn't even deliver. According to Kyle though, this place was “ _ totally worth it.”  _ So now Daryl had to wake Beth up so they could go pick up what had better be the best damn pizza he’s ever eaten.

He quietly walked over to her bed and gazed down at her. She looked peaceful - there wasn’t a noose hanging over her head while she was sleeping. And he wasn’t afraid to admit to himself that she was beautiful. Her pale skin that had just a hint of pink to it. Those big blue eyes and blonde hair that gave her that all-American type of beauty. It's a good thing Merle wasn't here and able to read his thoughts, he would have a field day with all of the inappropriate comments about ‘ _ ruining the farmer’s daughter.’ _

She moved her left arm out from under her pillow and the thick leather cuff that she never took off was a stark difference from the white pillow case. He’d noticed it the night they met, and had thought that it was such a contradiction to the rest of her. She was light and shiny, the bracelet was heavy and dark, but it seemed to complement her in a way. Like it was meant to be on her tiny wrist. There probably wasn’t a story behind it, he thought. Maybe she just didn't take it off so she wouldn’t lose it. Or more likely, it was just a gift - probably from the boyfriend.

Daryl reached out with the intention of gently shaking her shoulder but quickly pulled his hand back. He knew how he would react to someone grabbing him like that without warning while he was sleeping. He couldn’t see Beth throwing a punch at him, but they were both just starting to feel comfortable around each other and he didn't want to ruin the shaky ground they were on. He took a step back and called her name in a tone he hoped was gentle enough.

"Beth. Hey, Beth. C’mon get up, I'm starvin'." He watched as her eyelids fluttered open and turned those damn cornflower blues on him.

She blinked her eyes a few times like she was trying to figure out where she was and why she was there. Then she glanced at the clock sitting on the nightstand. "Hey. Wow, I didn't think I'd sleep at all. Definitely not that long." She sat up and stretched her arms above her head.

"Musta needed it. You've had a rough couple days." Daryl sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled out his cell phone and the number Kyle had given him, trying not to look at the 6 missed calls from Gareth. This guy was becoming a pain in the ass. Daryl’s phone had more incoming calls from Gareth the past few days than it had since he’d bought it.

"Guy at the desk said this is the best pizza place,” he said. “Thought we could pick it up an’ just come back here." He began chewing on his thumb nail again for something to do. Sometimes when she just stared at him, he felt he needed to keep his hands busy. She was having a weird effect on him today. “Any special requests? Ain’t got some weird topping preference like peanut butter or anchovies, do ya?” 

Beth rewarded his attempt at a joke with a big smile. She shook her head, but then stopped when she thought about it, giving him a head tilt that reminded him of something Rick did on occasion. “My sister makes fun of me ‘cause I like sweet corn on my pizza, but I’m always happy with pepperoni.” 

“Corn? On pizza?” Daryl had never thought of it, but if the girl liked it, why not. “How ‘bout we order one with yer corn an’ one with pepperoni? We’ll have enough fer breakfast in the mornin’ an’ won’t have ta stop before we head to the cabin.” 

She nodded in agreement and he quickly called the number and placed their order. The guy told him it would be 45 minutes before it was ready and the place was only 5 minutes away. It was getting harder to fill the time with her that didn’t involve getting into subjects that he wasn’t sure either one of them wanted to deal with just yet.

“So this cabin we’re goin’ to,” Beth said as she stood up and headed towards the bathroom. “Is it yours or a friend’s?” She was walking backwards so she could keep her intense gaze on him.

“Nah, found ‘im on the internet.” Daryl chuckled at the look on her face and waved her off, not wanting to keep her from her destination.

She came out of the bathroom a few minutes later still wearing a puzzled expression on her face. “So, you found him on the internet? Like in a chatroom or somethin’?”

Daryl shook his head and gave her what he hoped was an exasperated look. “No. Lil’ site called Airbnb… ever heard of it?” The blush that quickly crept up her neck and face made it hard for him to hold in his laughter. “Might be a redneck, but even we get the internet.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean that. I just thought this was more…  _ covert _ .” Beth’s face was bright red and she looked like she might cry. Damn, not the best time to try and be funny with her.

“Hey, hey. I was just kiddin’. I had ta think fast when Rick called so I just went with the easiest plan. This one looked like it was the best place. Middle of nowhere, electricity, runnin’ water, furnished. And the guy seems like he wouldn’t ask questions or care how long we end up stayin’.” Daryl was messing with his phone, trying to pull up the pictures of the place for her, but his fingers weren’t working right and he was just opening random shit.

Why the fuck was this girl making him act like he was 15 and not an almost 40-year-old man? He needed to do something that didn’t involve sitting in this damn room. 

He cleared his throat and stood up. “Grab yer shoes, got a stop ta make ‘fore we get the pizza.”

He was already grabbing his keys and standing next to the door while he waited for her to put on her shoes. She paused on her way to him and turned around to grab the black backpack she always kept close to her. She turned back with a small smile and followed him out the door.

Once they were in the truck, Daryl pulled out into traffic and followed the directions that Kyle had given him, hoping he would find what he was looking for before they made it to the pizza place. A neon sign caught his attention and he quickly changed lanes to pull into the parking lot.

“Got yer ID on ya or do I have ta leave ya in the car?” He asked a surprised Beth.

She grabbed her backpack and unzipped the front pocket, making sure the ID she’d hastily shoved in there the night Rick showed up was still inside. She pulled it out and held it up to him like she’d found a hidden treasure.

“Alrigh’, let’s go. Damn restrictive liquor laws in Tennessee means we gotta make an extra stop tonight.”

Daryl got out of the truck and walking towards the store with Beth hurrying to catch up behind him as she shoved her ID in her back pocket. He held the door open for her and walked in after her, nodding to the guy standing at the counter.

“Whatcha want?” He looked over at her as she scanned the wine shelf that was right in front of them. She shrugged her shoulders and he gave an annoyed sigh. Maybe she wasn’t a drinker. “You even drink at all?”

She turned her head to look at him and gave him an exasperated expression, nodding her head. “Yes Daryl, I drink. Just dunno what I want.”

She was moving past the wine - thankfully - and heading towards the fruity shit that tasted like crap. He’d rather her stay with the wine.

“My first drink was Peach Schnapps,” she said. “Grossest shit I’ve ever had.” She picked up a bottle of the offending drink and turned her nose up at it. She put the bottle back and wandered over to the section of flavored moonshine - or what they were allowed to sell as moonshine. “You ever had this stuff? Maggie loved it, but I’ve never tried it.”

“Nah, only had the real stuff that the old man brewed in the bathtub.” He chuckled at her comically wide eyes. “Grab a couple, let’s see what they taste like.” He reached next to her and grabbed one that looked like it was full of cherries, then one that claimed to be apple pie flavored.

Beth studied all of the bottles, seemingly analyzing each and every available flavor. Finally, she grabbed one labeled White Lightning, and then laughed as she grabbed another bottle and turned the label for Daryl to read:  _ Climax _ . She gave him a mischievous smile and wiggled her eyebrows, tucking the bottle under her arm. He shook his head, smirking.

They were walking towards the refrigerated section when something caught her eye. She reached out and grabbed another jar that was a baby blue color. He gave her an annoyed look and shook his head at the pastel-colored liquid.

“What? I like the color,” she said. “You don’t have ta drink it if ya don’t want.” She looked at the two bottles he was carrying and the three in her arms. “Do we really need all this?”

Five jars of moonshine did seem like a lot considering he was planning to add a few bottles of Jack to their haul, as well as a case of beer to go with the pizza they’d be having.

“No clue how long we’re gonna be there,” he explained. “Best we’re prepared. C’mon Greene, we still gotta get gas ‘fore we get the pizza.” Daryl jerked his head towards the front of the store, shifting the bottles in his hands so he could stop by the fridge and grab a case of Budweiser. “This okay with you?” He lifted the box towards her.

She nodded and set her bottles on the counter. He added his armful of liquor along with the beer and the two bottles of whiskey he had picked up. The cashier behind the counter gave them both a rather curious and surprised look.

“Honeymoon,” Daryl grunted, giving the cashier a knowing smile. “Lemme get four cartons of Marlboro Reds, too.”

He pulled the card that Rick had given him the other night out of his wallet. He was having a hard time not looking at Beth. He chanced a glance out of the corner of his eye and saw her staring at him in shock. Her face was starting to resemble a tomato.

“Sure… can I see both your ID’s?” The barely-21-himself cashier asked, letting his gaze linger on Beth a little longer than Daryl was comfortable with.

Beth handed hers over and the cashier gave it a long look, then gave her another scrutinizing once-over before handing it back. When Daryl handed his over, the guy barely glanced at it before ringing up their items.

“$463.47, please.”

Beth’s eyes widened more than they had all night and Daryl admittedly hesitated a bit when he slid the chipped card into the reader. He reminded himself that Rick had said the card was for anything they might need. And they might need all of this. If he was gonna be stuck up in the mountains for an unknown amount of time, he was gonna need all of those cigarettes. He hadn’t forgotten the two cartons he‘d packed in the back of the truck either, but it was always good to be prepared.

The machine in front of him beeped and he removed the card and entered the pin number that Rick had given him. The little reader printed out a receipt and then he was grabbing the beer and one of the bags and gesturing for Beth to grab the other one. For some reason, the extra attention the guy had been giving Beth and the amount of time he’d taken studying her ID was giving Daryl a bad feeling. It wasn’t like either of them were in trouble with the law - hell, the law was the reason they were even here at all. But he worried that she was using her real ID and someone might recognize her name.

It was good they were getting out of here in the morning. They just needed to get back to the motel and he would feel better.

There was a gas station just down the road and he quickly pulled in and topped off the gas tank before trying to find a streetside parking spot in front of Lorenzo’s Pizza. Kyle had been right, the place was packed. The few tables that were in the restaurant were filled and there was a long line of people waiting to be seated. He and Beth walked up to the counter and Daryl gave his name, pulling out two twenty dollar bills from his wallet as Beth grabbed the two large boxes. 

They had just piled back into the truck when she turned to him. “Daryl, are we planning on takin’ real food up to the cabin? Or are we just gonna be survivin’ on booze?” 

“Figured we’d stop at a grocery store on the way outta town tomorrow,” he said. “Grab as much non-perishable an’ frozen food as we can. When I talked to the guy, he told me there was lots of wild turkeys an’ rabbits an’ squirrels runnin’ around up there. I got my crossbow behind yer seat. We won't be goin’ hungry anytime soon.” Daryl gauged her reaction, unsure of how she would respond to the thought of cooking up squirrels and rabbits.

But she just smiled and nodded her head. “Wait, did you say you’ve got a  _ crossbow _ back there?” She twisted around in her seat, trying to see into the space behind her. “Like a  _ real _ crossbow?”

“Yeah, like a real crossbow. I’ll show ya when we get to the cabin tomorrow.” He caught the excited smile crossing her face, that one look causing butterflies to erupt in his stomach.

He didn’t have time to think too hard on that though, because they were back at the motel. He turned into the parking lot and pulled into the spot right in front of their room.

They hauled their pizzas and booze into the room and used the small dresser to lay out the boxes and beer. He’d already decided not to get into the hard liquor tonight. Something in his gut was telling him to get out of town early tomorrow. The cashier from the liquor store was still giving him a bad vibe. Maybe he’d just been checking Beth out - and who could blame him if he was? But it just didn’t feel quite right to Daryl.

They settled into the small table to eat, both of them quick to admit that it was probably the best pizza they’d ever had. Daryl even enjoyed the corn on his pizza. After they both resigned and decided they’d eaten more than they should have, they found a way to stuff what was left into one box and maneuver it into the small mini fridge that this place amazingly had. Then they both settled onto their separate beds, finding the first Avengers movie on one of the cable stations. Beth was finishing up her third beer and the slight buzz she had going was starting to make her cheeks pink, blue eyes slightly sparkling. Daryl was feeling relaxed after the four beers he’d had and was already opening a fifth.

“Was that guy at the liquor store a little… odd?” Beth asked from where she was relaxed against the headboard of her bed. She didn’t seem concerned, but that might have been the effect of the beer. “I jus’ kinda feel like he was tryin’ to memorize my face or somethin’.”

Daryl hadn’t realized that she noticed the same thing he had, but he didn’t want to worry her. “Nah, he was prob’ly just checkin’ you out. Might be the first pretty girl he’s seen in weeks.” He felt the heat creeping up his neck when he realized what he’d said.

“Did you just call me pretty, Daryl Dixon?” Beth grinned, batting her eyes at him.

“Shut up.” He chugged half his beer just so he could have something to do rather than looking at her or stupidly opening his mouth again.

They watched the rest of the movie in silence. Once it was over, Beth got ready for bed and changed into her pajamas. Daryl waited until she settled back into her bed before he went and brushed his own teeth, throwing some water on his face and still trying to figure out why he’d let that comment slip out. It was true, but that didn’t mean he needed to be saying shit like that to her.

When he emerged from the bathroom, the light on Beth’s side of the room was out and she had already shut the TV off. Daryl climbed into his bed and set the alarm on his phone, hoping to be out of the hotel by 8 the next morning. He saw that Gareth had been calling again and made sure to keep the ringer on silent. That guy was persistent - and not in a good way. Being out of cell service was looking real nice right about now.

Daryl assumed Beth was already asleep, but as he reached out for his light, she opened her eyes and gave him a small smile.

“‘Night, Daryl,” she whispered before nestling into her pillow.

“‘Night, Beth.” He turned off the light and settled onto his back.

He hoped the beer would help him fall asleep faster and take his mind off the woman in the bed next to him.

* * *

The sound of the shower clanging to life woke him before his alarm. Daryl sat up and looked over at the vacant bed next to his. It wasn’t often that someone was able to move around without alerting him. She must’ve been trying to let him sleep. Either that or the beer last night had more effect on him than it usually did.

His phone was thankfully empty of missed calls and he hoped it would stay that way. The constant calls from Gareth were starting to venture into stalker territory. Four hours from now, they would be settled into the cabin and Daryl could let his guard down. But being in the city always made him anxious. He needed to be out in the open where he could breathe and not have to see another person unless he wanted to. Well that would have to change a little, but Beth wasn’t someone he’d mind seeing all the time.

The water shut off and he could hear her humming a random tune. His mind was suddenly in there as well, watching her get ready, drops of water still running down her thin body. Nope, that shit needed to stop right now. He didn’t need to think about the very naked woman that was currently in the bathroom. In need of a distraction, he stepped outside and leaned against his truck, lighting a cigarette. He let the nicotine wake up his brain and get it back on the right track.

He couldn’t get the ever-growing amount of missed calls on his phone off his mind, nor the way that the cashier from the night before had spent so much time studying Beth and her ID. Trying to find a reason for all of that meant he was no longer thinking about anything to do with Beth and the shower as he made his way back into the motel room and started packing his bag.

Beth walked out of the bathroom, still humming to herself. She’d piled her wet hair on the top of her head and was wearing another jeans and shirt combo. He gave her a silent nod as he passed her, heading into the bathroom. When he’d been outside, he’d noticed the heat of the day was already building so he’d grabbed the brown plaid that he’d ripped the sleeves off of years ago and the last pair of clean jeans he’d packed. It didn’t take him long to change and toss the clothes he’d slept in back into his bag, zipping it up and tossing it onto the bed.

While he’d been in the bathroom, she’d pulled the box of pizza out of the mini fridge and there was an unopened bottle of water next to it. She was sitting on the edge of the bed munching on a cold slice of pizza and mindlessly flipping through the channels on the TV. He grabbed a leftover slice for himself and opened the water bottle, finishing it off in two swallows. The pizza wasn’t as good cold, but it was better than nothing. Plus, it meant they’d be able to get on the road faster.

“Did’ja sleep well, Daryl?” She asked as she bent down to tie her shoes. He grunted a reply and nodded his head, stuffing another bite of pizza into his mouth. “Not a talker in the mornings, are ya? Maggie used ta tell me that this is when I’m at my most annoying.” She smiled playfully at him, messing with the cuff on her wrist.

“Yer sister might be right.” He swallowed the final bite of pizza and looked over at her. He could tell that she was restraining herself from sticking her tongue out at him. “You ready ta go? Gotta find a store ‘fore we hit the road. Yer not plannin’ on buyin’ tons of granola tofu good-fer-you crap, are ya?” He was sure his distaste for anything that fell into that category was clearly showing on his face.

“Nope! I’ll live on chips, chocolate, and anything fried. Southern farm girl, ‘member?” She flashed him a playful grin and pulled her backpack over her shoulder before zipping up her duffel bag. He was starting to enjoy her being comfortable enough to joke with him. That was going to make the next few days and weeks easier for both of them.

“Let’s go get some food an’ get the fuck outta the city.” He opened the door for her and returned the smile she shot him, watching her walk to his truck. Girl might weigh 100 lbs soaking wet, but damn she had a great ass on her.

Daryl shook his head - he didn’t need those thoughts starting again. He was gonna have to get this new infatuation with her under control. And soon.

It didn't take long to get their bags stowed in the truck, even with Beth double-checking to assure that the booze was secure and wouldn’t end up breaking if they ended up on some rough roads. He lit another cigarette as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the main road.

The GPS on his phone directed them to a 24-hour grocery store that was 2 miles from the interstate. They made quick work of the store and stocked up on everything they thought they would need for a few weeks. The guy that owned the cabin had assured Daryl that there was a small store about 45 minutes from the cabin stocked with all the basics, but it wasn’t always open, especially if the owner thought it was a good day for fishing. 

Daryl opened the bed-width tool box that he’d installed on the truck a few years ago. Beth had the idea to buy bags of ice and use the insulated tool box to keep the frozen stuff as cold as possible in the heat. Daryl grabbed the bags from the liquor store and stuck them in as well. The food and all of the gear Daryl had been able to throw in his truck before he left was securely stored in the bed of the truck and the tarp was re-tied.

They climbed back into the cab and he grabbed his pack of smokes, shaking one out for himself. Then he paused and wondered if he’d really been a dick this whole time. He held the pack out and offered one to her. But she shook her head. “‘S prob’ly too late to ask if ya mind, isn't it?” The lighter was already halfway to his cigarette when he looked over at her guiltily.

“I don’t mind,” she shrugged. “It’s weirdly kinda comforting. My brother, Shawn, used ta smoke… The smell reminds me of him.”

Mentioning her brother quickly put a large crack in her carefree mood. She looked out the window of the truck and fiddled with the leather cuff on her left wrist. Daryl maneuvered the truck into the traffic that was beginning to build and headed towards the interstate. He knew he shouldn’t ask her, but the curiosity was starting to get to him.

“He give ya that bracelet?” Her hands stilled and she shook her head no. She’d started chewing on her bottom lip and picking at the cuticle on her left hand. “Didn’t mean ta pry, jus’ noticed ya never take it off. Figured it was somethin’ from him. Ta remember him or somethin’. Ya don’t have ta tell me.” He felt like a bigger ass now than he had when he’d stuck his foot in his mouth last night.

She gave him a weak smile and went back to messing with the bracelet and staring out the window. While they’d had silent stretches over the past few days, they weren’t the kind that made him uncomfortable. But this one did. He’d crossed some invisible line with her. All the progress they'd made and she was shutting down again. If Daryl could go back in time, he’d happily do so, but all he could do now was deal with the silence.

The radio in his old truck had its moments where the only thing it knew how to play was static, but it was deciding to work well today. It was thankfully filling the lack of conversation. Beth hadn’t stopped the constant fiddling with her bracelet and Daryl was starting to worry that she was going to chew a hole right through her lip. They’d been on the road for close to an hour by now, and the next three seemed to stretch like an eternity in front of them. He turned the dial, searching through radio static until a station came through. The pop station wouldn’t have been his first, second, or even hundredth choice, but it was better than the talk radio that the last station had turned into.

The song that had been playing ended and was followed by the sound of an acoustic guitar and a male voice. Daryl recognized it as the song Beth had been humming in the bathroom just a couple hours ago. A sharp intake of breath from the seat next to him distracted him from the lyrics that he was trying to hear and he glanced over at Beth to see tears streaming down her face. She had her right hand gripped around the bracelet, like she was trying to hold herself together.

His hand reached for the dial again, thinking he’d been wrong about it being the same song. This one was obviously causing her pain.

“It’s okay. Leave it.” her voice was broken, as though the tears on her face were slowly choking her.

He pulled his hand back and nodded at her. He was preparing for the suffocating silence aside from the music to take over again. But then she started talking again:

“My daddy gave me the bracelet. I think it might’ve been the last thing he gave me.” She cleared her throat and her voice became a little stronger. “A friend of his does leather work an’ he had her make this for me. I think he was tryin’ to use it to apologize fer everything.” Her eyes hadn’t left the road in front of her while she’d been talking, but she must have felt him looking at her because she turned her head and gave him a soft smile. “Sorry fer actin’ like a brat. I know yer just tryin’ to make this easier on both of us.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that so he just returned her smile and nodded, putting his full attention back on the road in front of him. The song that had affected her so much was over and something more upbeat was on the radio now. This time it was Beth that reached over to turn the volume down. She sighed.

“After Mama an’ Shawn died, I went off the rails a little. I didn't wanna leave my apartment. I was afraid to do anything. My boss at the hospital noticed and basically told me I needed to talk to someone or she was gonna suspend me. I don’t think she actually coulda done that, but it scared me enough to make an appointment.”

Daryl could feel the tension coming off of her in waves as she got to this part of her story. He listened intently, struggling to keep his eyes on the road.

“I went to the appointment, but I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell her about what I’d seen my dad doing, or that my mom was basically as guilty as he was by turnin’ a blind eye.” Her voice was cracking, but this time it seemed more like anger.

They sat in silence for a little longer. He could tell from her face that she was trying to find the best way to tell him what was inside her head. He felt like he needed to tell her that she didn’t have to rip open that wound right now. “Ya don’t have ta tell me anythin’, Beth. I’m sorry I upset ya earlier. Once I get my foot in my mouth, I just keep goin’.”

“It’s not you, Daryl,” she sighed with frustration. “Hell, you’ve been  _ more _ than great these past few days. It’s just been a long time since I’ve talked about this with… anybody.”

She laid her hand on his arm and the electric reaction that ran through him with that small touch was startling, especially when the leather of her cuff lightly scraped against his bare skin.

“This doctor - she put me on all sorts a medication, but none of ‘em helped,” she went on. “They just made me feel like I was back in that dark place right after I found out about my dad. Like I was in mental handcuffs.” He could see her shaking her head from the corner of his eye. “I started ta feel like everything that happened in the last few years was my fault. Like I’d somehow brought it on myself. The bad stuff, all the dark little head games I was playin’ on myself… it all started to take over. I was sittin’ in my apartment one night and it all just… I dunno,  _ exploded _ in my head. That’s what it felt like… An explosion. Inside my own brain.” She paused and drew in a shaky breath.

Daryl had a feeling he knew where this was going and part of him wanted to tell her to stop talking, to go back to the silence that had been so hard to deal with. But then he realized that she was trusting him with something she didn't trust many people with.

They’d stashed some water bottles on the seat between them and Beth grabbed one and took a few sips before she continued talking. “I drank the last half of a bottle of vodka - I can barely even look at the stuff now - then I went into the bathroom an’ smashed the mirror with the bottle. I found the biggest shard of glass that I could an’ used it to slice my wrist.”

His hands tightened around the steering wheel and he had to fight the urge to pull over to the side of the road and pull her tight against him, to protect her from everything that had ever tried to hurt her - and whatever was coming for her now. Her voice broke through his thoughts and brought him back to the present, reminding him that he was driving and should probably be paying attention.

“My neighbor, Jessie, heard the mirror break an’ came over ta check on me. She found me in the bathroom holding my wrist an’ apologizing. She called 911 an’ stayed with me till the paramedics got there… I woke up in the hospital that I worked at with my sister cryin’ over me and my Daddy just-just  _ staring _ out the window. I’d never seen him look so defeated… not even after Shawn an’ Mama died. But after I woke up, Maggie went ta call her husband an’ let him know what was goin’ on and that’s when my dad sat down next to me. He started crying… He grabbed my hand and said, ‘ _ Doodlebug, I don’t think I could go on without you, so please don’t make me.’  _ it was the first time I’d seen my dad genuinely  _ vulnerable  _ an-and  _ scared _ like that… And it hurt more than when I’d dragged that damn glass down my wrist.”

Daryl hadn’t noticed that Beth had taken her cuff off, but when he glanced over, it was laying in her lap. She ran her finger down the jagged pink scar that marred her pale skin. “Thing was, as soon as I... I cut my wrist, I didn’t wanna die anymore. All I wanted to do was live and see my family again.” 

Daryl wasn’t sure what prompted him to do what he did next, probably some stupid idea that wasn’t leaving his head, but he took his right hand off the steering wheel and grasped her wrist. He ran his thumb up and down her scar. Fuck, he would hate if someone did that to any of his scars - but some part of him knew that it was something she would be okay with. She looked so startled when he first grabbed her wrist, but then she was smiling at him and it wasn’t a smile he’d seen before. It was just pure gratitude for him not judging her.

“I was put on a 72-hour hold,” she continued, her voice growing stronger. “And I found somebody at the hospital that didn't just wanna medicate me, they actually wanted ta  _ listen _ to me. His name’s Dr. Eastman. I didn’t tell him everything about what my dad did, but I told him that he was in a line of work I wasn’t sure I could accept. I told him about the thoughts closing in on me and he gave me things to do. He taught me how to manage the depression and anger… One of his tricks was to find ‘ _ my song,’  _ kinda like my anthem. It sounded dumb at the time, but once I started trying to find it and listened for it, I enjoyed it. And I remember the exact moment I heard it. The lyrics said exactly what was in my head and in my heart. So now when I start to feel anxious or like the thoughts are gonna take over, I sing it to myself, I hum it, sometimes I just repeat the words in my head. I used to turn it up all the way on my phone, but I can’t do that now ‘cause Rick decided my phone would better serve the tires on the interstate.”

After so much pain, it was nice to hear her laugh about that and he joined in with her, in need of a little levity.

“Is that the song? The one on the radio?” He asked.

She nodded and slipped her cuff back onto her wrist, giving it a meaningful squeeze and smiling a little.

“It all just hit at once,” she explained. “You askin’ about the bracelet and then hearin’ the song. Daddy got this for me after I got released from the hospital - I was worried about people staring, so he made sure that nobody would be able to see it. That’s why I never take it off. Now… now it makes me feel like he’s still with me.” That relieved smile was back on her face.

Daryl didn’t realize how long they’d been talking, but the GPS was telling him to take an exit towards Gatlinberg. He’d been so engrossed in her story that he hadn’t realized they’d been going up in elevation and were already starting to drive through mountainous areas.

“I didn’t get ta hear much of that song. Can ya tell me?” He asked, not willing to look over since the road was starting to twist and turn as they climbed into the mountains. “If it’s not too personal. What it is about that one that made it  _ yer _ song?” 

Daryl had expected her to tell him she didn’t feel comfortable, or maybe give him a very brief explanation. But suddenly her beautiful singing voice was filling the cab of his truck:

_ Help me _ _  
_ _ It’s like the walls are caving in _ _  
_ _ Sometimes I feel like giving up _ _  
_ _ But I just can’t _ _  
_ _ It isn’t in my blood _

She paused and said, “That part’s important an’ I’ll get to that in a second. This first verse is what hit me an’ made me have no doubt that this would be my song.”

_ Laying on the bathroom floor, feeling nothing _ _  
_ _ I’m overwhelmed and insecure, give me something _ _  
_ _ I could take to ease my mind slowly _ _  
_ _ Just have a drink and you’ll feel better _ _  
_ _ Just take her home and you’ll feel better _ _  
_ _ Keep telling me that it gets better _ _  
_ _ Does it ever? _ _  
_ _ Help me, It’s like the walls are caving in _ _  
_ _ Sometimes I feel like giving up _ _  
_ _ No medicine is strong enough _ _  
_ _ Someone help me _ _  
_ _ I’m crawling in my skin _ _  
_ _ Sometimes I feel like giving up _ _  
_ _ But I just can’t _ _  
_ _ It isn’t in my blood. _

“I felt like that on those meds: like I just wanted to give up,” she explained. “I was constantly asking fer someone to help me, but no one would.” Beth’s shoulders relaxed, almost like her singing and then talking to him had finally eased an anxious part of her.

Daryl figured he knew what part she was talking about being the part that helped her, but this was her story to tell, so he just sat back and listened. He silently hoped she would sing some more. She had a voice that would have gotten her discovered back in Nashville, but he was enjoying his own private little concert right now. Even if it was meant to explain how she dealt with the pain and anger inside of her.

“Those last few lines are so powerful and they convey so much and explain my life and where my head was and where my head is. Because I still feel like giving up, but I know I can’t and after all that just happened I definitely won't. Because it isn’t in my blood. It isn’t in my blood to kill myself or fail. It’s in my blood to be a strong person and to be a Greene.”

She gave him a determined smile and laughed a little at herself. “Bet you weren’t expecting to get that story when you asked, were ya?”

Daryl laughed with her. “Pain, I understand, girl. Maybe one day I’ll tell ya a few of my stories, too. Yer strong as hell, Beth Greene. This bullshit that’s happenin’ to ya right now - it won’t break ya. I’m not gonna let it.” He gave her a meaningful look.

And he meant it. He barely knows her, but he’d take a bullet for her right now if he had to.

* * *

They’d passed the remaining time with meaningless chatter. Beth told him about the time she’d found her sister’s birth control and was so upset that her sister was having sex that she threw it into the duck pond. Daryl could only imagine what would’ve happened if he’d tried to confiscate Merle’s condoms when he was younger. His brother probably would have kicked his ass and then drowned him in a pond.

They’d lost signal to the GPS, but the email from the owner told him to stay on the road until they saw a large wooden sign that said:  _ Home of the Highwaymen.  _ An odd name for some land, Daryl thought, but he wasn’t one to judge. 

Beth saw the sign before he did and quickly pointed it out. As it turned out ,the large sign was actually a hand carved gate that arched over the driveway. There were also what looked like muskets carved on each side of the words.

Daryl pulled the truck down the long dirt drive and stopped in front of a two-story wood cabin. The email had told him to stop at the main cabin to get the keys for the one he’d rented and pay for the first two weeks. Beth’s eyes lit up when she saw the place.

“Is this where we’re stayin’?” Her gaze was hopeful and him shaking his head made her smile falter, but only slightly.

“Nah, this’s where the owner lives. Gotta get the keys from him an’ pay him. Then we gotta find a way to send the landline number to Rick, just in case.” He turned the engine off and pulled the keys from the ignition before jumping out of the cab.

It felt good to stretch his legs after driving for so long. Beth seemed to be feeling the same way as she rolled her neck and turned in a slow circle, taking in the mountain view.

“This place is gorgeous, Daryl!” She marveled. “Damn, I don’t care what the cabin we’re stayin’ in looks like, as long as I get to look out at this view anytime I want.” It seemed that the outdoors and fresh air were something that she’d been desperately needing as well.

A man had stepped out onto the porch and Daryl wasn’t exactly sure if he should laugh or be a little concerned that this was the man he was renting a cabin from. He was probably Dary’s height, with curly brown hair that reached the top of his collar and a neatly-trimmed mustache and beard to match, speckled with a hint of gray. His blue shirt looked like he’d taken it from a Civil War memorial and it barely contained his slightly overweight form. The cowboy hat he was wearing really set the whole thing off. Daryl’s concern was heightened again when he caught a glimpse of what looked like an ancient...  _ canon  _ sitting in the living room.

“Howdy, y'all. Name’s Ozzy. At yer service.” He tipped the brim of his cap to Beth as he came down the stairs. She responded with a giant smile and stuck her hand out to him.

“Hey, Ozzy,” she greeted. “I’m Beth, this's Daryl. I think we’re rentin’ a cabin from you.” Her sunny demeanor was back. Who could’ve guessed that a man living his life as an old western cowboy would make her so happy?

“Yes ma’am, I believe you are,” Ozzy beamed. “Didn’t realize I’d have such a pretty lady stayin’ here. I’da spruced the place up a bit.”

Daryl had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at him. He seemed harmless, which was what they needed, and Beth smiling was becoming his new favorite thing. And for that fact alone, he’d put up with this guy.

Wanting to get settled in, Daryl reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He counted out some bills and closed the distance between them, handing the cash to Ozzy. “Yer sure ya don’t mind me payin’ in cash? I know ya got the credit card I sent ya, but we don’t know how long we’re plannin’ to stay an’ cash jus’ seems easier.” 

Ozzy nodded his head and happily took the cash out of his hand, giving it a small count before reaching in his pocket and pulling out a set of keys. “No sir, cash does just fine. Don’t have ta wait on the banks that way.” He gave them both a curious look, probably nothing the age difference between them. Or the fact that she was a pretty young woman with an old redneck. “You two runnin’ from the law or somethin’? I gotta warn ya, I’m a park ranger fer this beautiful national park yer on the edge of.”

Daryl had actually already known this and that was part of the reason he’d picked this spot in the first place. Having someone with even the small amount of authority that Ozzy held was a small piece of mind for both Daryl and Rick.

He was just about to answer with an excuse about hunting and getting in touch with nature when Beth jumped in.

“Nothin’ like that! We’re on our honeymoon! Just haven’t figured out the right way ta tell the folks yet, so we decided to have a good long trip in the mountains while we figure it out.” She was giving Ozzy a convincingly bashful smile and Daryl was having a hard time not choking on his tongue.

Damn, this girl was turning that back around on him. He knew his ears were bright red. He could feel them burning, along with his neck and his cheeks.

“Oh! Well damn, don’t let me hold ya up any longer!” Ozzy chuckled. “Jus’ take this road to the right about four miles, it dead ends right at the cabin. Sheets an’ towels are fresh. Like I said in my email, there’s no internet down there, but I got a big screen TV mounted up on one of the walls an’ there’s plenty of movies.” He got a big smile on his face then. “I’m a real lover of films - all kinds. Got a real nice collection. Not that you’ll have much time ta watch ‘em, but ya know - if you want.” He winked, smiling at the two of them like he’d just officiated the fake wedding Beth had told him about.

Daryl nodded his head and grabbed the keys. He would come back up later and see about sending an email to Rick. Right now he just wanted to get the hell out of here before these two could embarrass him any more.

Beth walked up to Ozzy and gave him a brief hug, “I hope we’ll see you again sometime. Ya know, in a few days or so...” She comically raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a coy smile.

Nope. Didn’t get them out fast enough, Daryl thought. Damn this girl. She was having way too much fun with all this. Ozzy smiled and tipped his hat to her again, then stuck his hand out to shake Daryl’s.

“You need anything, there’s an old CB radio down there,” Ozzy added. “I’m the only one that’ll get the broadcast, so you just let me know.” He retreated back up the stairs and opened the door before turning to wave goodbye over his shoulder. Daryl caught a glimpse of the room behind him.  _ Holy fuck, that really was a canon. _

Beth was already back in the truck and patiently waiting for him to start the engine, He turned to her and flicked his head to get his too long bangs out of his eyes. “Honeymoon?  _ Really _ ?”

She let out the happiest laugh he’d heard thus far and flashed him a huge smile, turning in her seat to stare at him. “Worked last night, didn’t it?” 

Daryl rolled his eyes.

He drove down the dirt road to the smaller cabin. This one was much smaller, but also two stories with a fishing pond in the back. It was the kind of place he would love to live up in the mountains, far from civilization with plenty of fish and other animals to survive on. He was grateful he’d thought to toss his fishing gear in as he was leaving. Ozzy probably had gear in the house, but Daryl would rather have his own. 

Beth was already out of the truck, nearly bouncing with excitement. “Daryl! This place is so amazing! I think I’m gonna overuse that word soon, but that’s the only way I can describe it. C’mon, let’s go see the cabin.”

She grabbed his hand and for once in his life, he didn’t pull back or lash out at the person touching him. He stood still though, not allowing her to pull him along just yet.

“How ‘bout we unload this truck ‘fore we go explorin’?” He said. “I’m not sure how well all that frozen fried stuff ya bought made the trip.” This time, she did stick her tongue out at him.

“Yes sir, Mr. Dixon,” she snapped at him with a small salute, but walked to the bed of the truck and helped him untie the tarp all the same.

Between the two of them, the truck was quickly unloaded and Beth unhappily restrained herself from exploring the cabin to help Daryl stuff food into every available spot in the freezer and fridge. There were a few cans of soup and canned vegetables already in the cabinets and soon, those were full as well.

“Alrigh’ girl, go give yerself a tour,” Daryl said. “Jus’ tell me which bedroom ya want. I’m gonna get my campin’ an’ fishin’ stuff put out in that shed.”

Beth gave a little squeal of delight and went running up the stairs of the loft.

The cabin was almost completely open with high ceilings. The loft took up the back half of what would have been a full second floor, and Daryl liked that it was only a loft. The cabin was filled with natural sunlight and nothing about the structure felt claustrophobic. There was a small nook under the loft that had a queen-sized bed situated beneath a wide window, a dresser pushed against the far wall, and a nightstand on each side of the bed. To the left of the front door was the kitchen, a long island separating it from the rest of the cabin. A plush dark green couch was in the middle of the living room with a coffee table set in front of it and two armchairs that matched the couch on each side. The large flat-screen TV that Ozzy had mentioned took up the far wall, and a low bookshelf lined the wall from the corner to a doorway that Daryl guessed could only be the bathroom. Ozzy hadn’t been kidding about having a lot of movies. Daryl briefly thought about suggesting to watch one tonight.

“Daryl! I’m takin’ the loft,” Beth called down from upstairs. “Holy shit, you should see it up here!” She was hanging over the dark wood railing and grinning like a kid.

“Don’t lean over too far, I don’t wanna throw my back out tryin’ ta catch yer ass,” he called back up to her with a smile of his own.

She rolled her eyes but pushed herself back up to a standing position. He took her invitation and walked up the stairs to see what had her so excited.

While the area downstairs was done in greens, the loft was all pale yellows that oddly complemented the dark wood that the cabin was constructed with. The loft was sparsely furnished, but Daryl had an idea that was why Beth liked it. There was a king-sized bed in the center and instead of nightstands, there were floating shelves on each side. An oversized chair sat in the right corner beneath one of the windows that lined the back wall. Gauzy white curtains lined each side of the window and puddled on the floor. The left half of the room had a small walk-in closet and dresser just to the side of the entrance. 

“Ya, I think that's a good room fer you. I like the green sheets downstairs better anyhow,” he said with a grin as he walked back down the stairs. He called over his shoulder to her, “Just remember that I’m closest to the bathroom!”

She was close on his heels, following him downstairs. “This bathroom better be as awesome as the rest of the house!”

She passed him once they got to the bottom. She paused when she got a look at the shelves full of Blu-rays. “Holy shit, he really does love movies. If he’s got this many up here, how many d’you think he has in his own cabin? Oh, and did you see that canon in his living room? That was a little strange, right?” She was talking as fast as her eyes were taking in the cabin as she rushed over and slid open the pocket door to the bathroom, her eyes lighting up as she took it in. “I might move into this bathroom, Daryl!” 

Daryl wasn’t sure which of her rapid fire questions to answer first, but it seemed that the bathroom had caused her to forget about everything else.

As he stepped through the door, he didn’t get a bathroom, but rather a very nice laundry room with a full-size washer and dryer, the shelf above it stocked with detergent, fabric softener, and dryer sheets. Next to those was a collapsible solid wood table for folding, and then a sliding barn door that led to the rest of the bathroom. Within there was a full-size shower, with a rainfall showerhead and two detachable showerheads on each end, as well as a small bench on one side. This shower wasn’t built for just one person to use alone. Daryl shook his head, pushing those thoughts out of his head right away. The right side of the bathroom had a small room just for the toilet. A double sink and wall-length countertop was to the left, and in the middle of the massive bathroom was an old-fashioned clawfoot bathtub. Daryl was shaking his head in disbelief. Ozzy did not strike him as the kind of man that would’ve designed this place - he’d either bought it like this or there was someone else around the property. But seeing Beth’s excitement, he wasn’t going to care about any of that.

“I’ll unpack my stuff later,” she said. “Right now I think I wanna see if that couch is as comfortable as it looks!”

Beth walked past him and towards the front door. She kicked off her shoes and then lined them up before turning towards the kitchen and the fridge, grabbing one of the beers from last night. She turned to Daryl and gave him an expectant look.

He followed her lead and left his shoes by the front door. Once his socked feet hit the floor, he realized that it wasn’t real hardwood, but that expensive tile that looks just like it. He’d have to ask Ozzy about that when he went up to the main cabin later. He made his way over to the couch where Beth had set the beers on coasters on the coffee table. She seemed to have disappeared into what was apparently going to be his room. A shriek came from the area she’d disappeared into and he tried to run to her, but his socked feet were slipping on the tile. He got to her just as she came walking out of the little nook that served as the closet for his room. 

“Sorry, I was bein’ nosey,” she apologized. “But look!” She held up the acoustic guitar she had found like a trophy. Even if she was looking sheepish for having been snooping.

“Ya play?” He asked, but figured she had already answered his question based on her excitement. He followed her back out to the living room. She’d sat down on one end of the couch and pulled her legs underneath her. Daryl dropped onto the opposite end, grabbing his beer and watching her pluck on the strings and tune it to her liking.

“I haven’t in years! When I left the farm, I left my guitar an’ I never went back for it. I always hated that I didn’t remember to take it with me, and then by the time I finally went back to the farm, I didn’t have any desire ta play anymore.” Her smile faltered a little, but she was still playing a tune that was in her head.

“Wanna play somethin’ for me?” He asked. “I know I’m not some big time record guy ta give you yer big break, but I listen pretty well.”

She looked at him for a few moments like she was trying to decipher what was in his head, then she gave a small nod to herself and started strumming out a tune that promptly took him back in time. Then her voice was cutting through him like a knife, wrapping him in happiness at the same time.

_ It’s amazing how you can speak right to my heart _ _  
_ _ Without saying a word you can light up the dark _ _  
_ _ Try as I may I could never explain what I hear when you don’t say a thing _

He was suddenly back in his old house, the one they’d all lived in before his mom burned it down while she was still inside. He was maybe 5 years old, watching her sway in front of the window, the song coming through the static-filled radio that sat on the bookshelf. He’d been playing with his toys in front of the TV when his old man had come stomping out of the bedroom, not even noticing his youngest son sitting on the floor. His mom had come out a few minutes later, her eyes red-rimmed from crying and a black eye already forming. She had red marks around her throat and was limping. She stopped to ruffle his brown hair as she walked past him, switching off the TV on her way to the bookshelf where she always kept her smokes, next to the radio. Her hand was shaking as she turned the radio on and found the country station she loved. She’d sat in a chair by the window, chain-smoking and listening to the music that played, smiling to her son and answering his occasional questions. She stood from her seat when she heard Keith Whitley’s voice and turned the volume up, walking over to the window to stare out at the dead grass that Will never got around to taking care of. She was quietly singing along and lightly swaying. Daryl just sat there and watched his mom, wondering why she was only happy when his dad was gone and she was listening to her favorite song.

Beth’s voice was still singing and it brought him back to the present. He was thankful that she couldn’t see him staring at her - she was too caught up in her own world, even swaying a little with the guitar in her lap. Just like his mom had been that day.

_ The smile on your face let’s me know that you need me _ _  
_ _ There’s a truth in your eyes saying you’ll never leave me _ __  
_ A touch of your hand says you’ll catch me if ever I fall _ _  
_ __ Now you say it best when you say nothing at all

Beth finishined strumming and sang the final words, looking up at him with a hopeful smile. He wasn’t sure what look he was giving her, but it probably wasn’t encouraging, judging by the way her face had immediately fallen.

He was too caught up trying to seperate the past and the present, realizing that every time he remembered his mom and this song, it was always after she’d taken the worst his dad could dish out. But now, hearing the lyrics to the song and seeing Beth in front of him, he was feeling what the lyrics were saying. And he was feeling it for her.

He wasn’t  _ allowed _ to have those feelings for her. She was just here for him to keep safe. She also had that obsessive boyfriend.

He didn’t know how to deal with everything running through his head so he did what he always did. He left.

He stopped to pull on his boots and throw his crossbow over his shoulder, then he was out the door without a word, not even turning around when he heard her calling his name. He was around the back of the house and heading towards the pond when her voice finally faded away.

He didn’t stick to the well-worn path, though. He knew he’d be able to find his way back when he was ready. He’d grabbed his crossbow out of habit, not intending to hunt anything. It was just a comfort hanging heavily on his shoulder.

Judging by the way the sun moved across the sky, he must’ve been wandering through the woods for at least two hours. He’d probably scared Beth to death and he knew he’d hurt her feelings. He needed to head back. But a small sound made him turn and look the way he’d just come from. He wasn’t able to see anyone, but his senses were so well intune with everything around him, he could tell that the ground hand been disturbed by someone other than him. He couldn’t imagine Ozzy sneaking around behind him, so it had to be someone or something else. An animal, maybe?

He’d just started to raise his crossbow when something hit him hard in the back of his head, rocking his skull painfully. He stumbled forward and tried to turn to see who had hit him, but before he could get a look, he felt another bash against his temple. He landed on his back in the dirt, all the air leaving his lungs. The outline of a tall figure hazily came into view, standing over him.

And then the blackness took over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs Used:  
> In My Blood by Shawn Mendes  
> When You Say Nothing at All by Keith Whitley
> 
> I'm sorry. I really am sorry. I'm even more sorry that next week is that Rick chapter. Don't hate me, I promise the payoff is worth it!


	10. The Usual Suspects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at home, Rick deals with the murders at the Greene farm and Dixon junkyard. Maggie let's everyone know that she wants to know where Beth is. Another person "returns" from the dead and one big question will finally be answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I left you all with a cliff hanger last week and I'm not going to give you a resolution just yet. I will finally answer a theory that most have you have been asking about! Thanks as always to my beta and bestie SquishyCool!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: There is a pretty graphic scene describing Hershel's death.

**The Usual Suspects**

"Sheriff Grimes, I can't deal with that woman anymore,” Rick's newest deputy, Laura Hawthorne, informed him as he walked in the door. “She refuses to leave with the Federal Agents that’re here to move her and her husband. I think she terrified them. They aren't even tryin’ to get her to leave anymore."

"Thought ya said ya could handle her. I believe it was somethin’ along the lines of ‘a farmer's daughter couldn't scare you.’" Rick smirked.

He liked the new deputy. Shane had issues with her, but that was probably because he couldn’t sleep with her. Walsh didn't think the large tattoo on her neck or abrupt demeanor was going to instill confidence in the people she was helping either. Pure comedy coming from him, Rick thought.

"That was before I met her,” Laura frowned. “She's a terrifying woman." With that, Laura turned on her heel and walked back to her desk.

Rick sighed and headed to the interrogation room that Maggie and Glenn had been put in. They had been in his office, but then Maggie had overheard Shane say something about how they might have avoided all of this if Rick had held Hershel accountable in the first place. The wall next to where Shane had been standing now had a rather large hole in it and Rick realized that a stapler actually  _ could _ fly that far and that fast. Shane was lucky to be alive.

Experience had taught him that in order to get anything accomplished with the oldest Greene, he would have to get in and start talking before she got a chance to get going. Maggie Rhee was a good friend, but her baby sister was in trouble and that brought out a side of Maggie that would scare anyone.

He carefully walked into the room and nodded in greeting to Glenn, who widened his eyes and cut them to his wife. If that wasn’t a warning, Rick didn’t know what was. Maggie was turning and opening her mouth to start in on him again but Rick calmly held up his hand to stop her. He was going to try and placate her, possibly convince her to finally go to the safe house, so he could get his station back to investigating these crimes.

"Maggie, I know, I already know,” he said. “Ya aren't goin’ with them till you know where Beth is - but you know as well as I do that until we catch the people responsible, she’s not safe. The less people that know where she’s at, the better."

He looked over at Glenn for a little help, who was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, watching his wife pace around the room like a caged animal. The younger man gave him a small shrug. Rick rolled his eyes at him. Yeah, Glenn wasn't going to be any help.

Maggie stopped her pacing and got right up in Rick’s face. "Rick Grimes, I’m not moving from this room until I see my sister standin’ in front of me and I know that she’s safe. I don't care where she’s at, you get her back here right fucking now!" Her green eyes were wild with rage and her brown hair was disheveled, probably from running her hands through it for the past few hours. 

"No,” Rick responded simply. “You know that ain’t gonna happen. Now, if ya jus’ slowed down fer one minute, you’d realize this’s the best plan." He sat down in one of the chairs and rubbed his hands over his face. It was going to be a long day and he’d only been here for ten minutes.

"Rick, if you don't tell me where Beth is, I’m gonna burn this place to the ground," Maggie growled.

"Mags, if you burn this place to the ground, we won't ever know where Beth is,” Glenn decided to join in. “Think it through, babe."

His wife shot him a look that had him holding up both hands in a form of surrender.

Rick needed her to see the bigger picture. "Maggie, remember when yer daddy asked me to make sure I kept Beth safe if somethin’ ever happened? Well, I did exactly what yer father asked me to do. Beth is safe and far from Georgia. She’s gonna be just fine." 

Maggie sighed in frustration. "If we have ta go into this stupid protective custody, then why can't she just come with us?" She demanded before taking a seat across from him.

For the first time in his career, Rick felt like he was the one being interrogated. Not too long ago, he’d hoped Maggie would come work for him. Lord knew she’d make one hell of a cop. But she was fully committed to carrying on the family business, especially after Shawn's death. 

"Because your dad knew you and I know you,” Rick explained sharply. “There’s no way you'll just sit back an’ let us work. Ya won't stay where we put you. I’ve got a bet with Walsh on how long we’ll be able to keep ya in the safe house before yer stagin’ a coup an’ convincing the agents to help ya get out and wreak vengeance. If you had Beth with ya, you’d just drag her right back in. D’you want that for her? She didn't want this life. She left it behind an’ ran away as fast as she could. What if she got killed? How would you handle that?"

He finally saw a flicker of realization cross her face.

"Why are there Federal agents here?” She demanded. “I know enough ta know that’s how you end up in Witness Protection. And you can bet yer ass I’m not givin’ up who I am."

Rick already knew that. Maggie Rhee would always be just that, and there’s no way he would ever be able to change it.

"Because that's what we told the press, that yer in Witness Protection,” he explained. “Actually, you’ll be at a safe house close to here. T is there now. The three of you saw the men that attacked the farm. Y’all know yer dad's business and what the people who killed him might’ve been trying to get. I just need ya outta sight for now. Think you can work with me on this one?"

Maggie was looking at him with narrowed green eyes and he knew he was about to witness a whole new level of her rage. Glenn was also looking confused from his spot on the floor.

"Why the fuck did you tell us we were goin’ then? Why does everybody think we’re goin’ to some crap-ass town in the middle of the country where I’ve gotta be somebody I’m not? Why’re the agents here?" The fact that her voice had stayed calm but her drawl got stronger was a definite sign that she was probably wishing she had a stapler to throw at his head. He was also once again wishing that she had come to work for him.

"I'm not sure who I can trust,” Rick said. “You had to be convincing and the agents will be your protection at the house. Maybe you should stop tryin’ to  _ intimidate _ them. Y’all are gonna be gettin’ to know each other pretty well." He stood up and gestured for the couple to follow him. "We can go back to my office now if you promise ta keep that throwin’ arm to yourself. Yer sister gave me some names that I wanna run by you."

Maggie silently agreed, standing and leaving with her husband right behind her. Rick held the door open and then followed behind them to his office. 

Laura stopped them on the way to tell RIck, "I pulled those pictures for you an’ put ‘em on your desk." She shot Maggie a look and a nod that almost looked like respect before she walked the other direction.

“Thanks, Laura.” He turned to look at Maggie and Glenn and saw two people that hadn’t slept or eaten in days. He’d been so wrapped up in his own grief and the adrenaline-fueled adventure to get Beth out of harm’s way that he’d practically forgotten about the other two people that called Hershel their dad.

Guilt washed over him as he took in the dark shadows under Glenn’s eyes, how Maggie’s eyes were red-rimmed even though she wouldn’t admit that she’d been crying. Rick changed his mind right then. Looking through files could wait.

“I’m gonna review these files an’ then I’ll bring ‘em to the safe house tonight to see if there’s anyone you recognize or somebody that stands out to ya,” he said decisively. “T‘s already there. Go ta the house Maggie, sleep, get somethin’ ta eat. Make sure yer in the right state of mind so when we go through these files, you’ve got a clear head.” Rick saw her start to interrupt and he held up a hand, giving her a gentle look. “Maggie, you won’t be doin’ anyone any good if you aren’t takin’ care of yerself. You need ta sleep, you need to eat, and you need some time to mourn your dad. Take this time. Go with the agents and I’ll be by later. I promise anything I find out, you’ll know. We’ll go over everythin’ I’ve got.”

Maggie sighed and the fight drained out of her. She nodded and then laid her head on Glenn’s shoulder. Glenn gave Rick a look of gratitude and wrapped his wife in his arms, murmuring something into her ear that Rick couldn’t hear. He motioned to the FBI agents that would be guarding the safe house and told them that he would be by later with some pictures for everyone to look over.

Once the Rhee’s were safely escorted from the station and on their way to the house, Rick locked his door and spread out the small file that Lauren had delivered to him. He went for the pictures with the small biographies first: Jessie Anderson, Beth’s neighbor and the one who’d reported the break-in. She was blonde, a bit older than Beth, and had two boys. One of them was Carl’s age. She didn't really fit the mold of someone that would be working with criminals and selling out her friend. Next was Amy Harrison, an emergency room doctor that worked with Beth. She was the younger sister to Andrea Harrison, top-notch defense lawyer and wife of Phillip Blake. That sent some flags up for Rick. He couldn’t find any dirt on Blake, but ever since he’d shown up in Senoia, Rick knew that he’d be bad news. The last picture was a guy that was probably in his mid-to-late 20s, light brown hair that shagged over his forehead, hazel eyes that had an almost cunning quality to them. He looked like a clean-cut guy, good-looking, the kind of guy that you’d picture Beth Greene with. The short bio said he worked with his mother, Mary, and brother, Alex, in the family butcher shop. Gareth West, the boyfriend Rick had told Daryl to let Beth contact. There had been something in Daryl’s voice when he mentioned Gareth, like he was hoping Rick would tell him not to let Beth reach out. 

Nothing had come up in the search; no police records or so much as a traffic ticket. He was basically a model citizen, but Rick’s gut feeling was telling him to look into this kid more deeply. There was something that didn’t seem right. Maggie would be able to shed some light on their relationship. Possibly Jessie as well. He was going to stay far away from Amy. She would be no help. Especially if her sister caught wind of his little questions.

It was time to start the real police work. Work the streets, knock on some doors. See if anyone had noticed some people that didn't belong in their little town. Rick was grabbing his hat and car keys when Walsh stuck his head into the office.

“One of the lookie-loo neighbors jus’ called in an’ this li’l old lady swears she done seen a bear or - and I’m quotin’ her now -  _ Bigfoot _ . Said she saw ‘im walkin’ ‘round the back barn on the Greene Farm. Thought ya might wanna go check it out.” Shane rolled his eyes, obviously assuming the neighbor had either lost her mind or was just hoping to get her name in the National Enquirer.

“Ya, I was just headin out. I’ll stop there first.” Rick nodded his head in thanks and walked to the parking lot and got in his patrol car.

* * *

This might’ve been the first real moment of peace he’d encountered since T had called that night. He wasn’t going to have many of these moments until he had some sort of grasp on the case. First though, he had to go track down Bigfoot.

He had an idea of what the neighbor might’ve actually seen, but after the reports he got from T, Maggie, and Glenn, he didn’t think it could be possible. Hell, stranger things had happened. Merle Dixon being alive and back to his racist, sexist, redneck self was one hell of a break/miracle/pain in the ass…? Rick had the long drive to the farm to think of what he was walking into.

The entrance to the driveway of the farm was still brimming with news vans and journalists. The sheriff’s vehicle pulling up sent them all into a frenzy. Five or six reporters were beating on his windows and asking for comments and if he had any leads. Rick just kept his gaze straight ahead and laid on the horn, flipping on the sirens to get them out of the way. Finally, he reached the barricade and was able to greet the officers on duty. He told them he was just going to do a quick walk around the property and make sure that no one had snuck in. Instead of parking in front of the big farmhouse, he drove down to the back barn. As he passed the house, it gave off an almost eerie and evil vibe. He doubted either of the girls would ever be living there again.

The back barn - which Glenn had always called The Killing Floor. And Rick knew that was probably the most accurate name for it. If he really looked into a few missing persons cases that belonged to some of the more unsavory people in the area, this was probably the last place they’d been alive or in one piece. Hershel had a particular way of disposing of the people that crossed him or broke one of the rules that he required all the organizations in the area to live by.

Rick could smell the blood and fear when he walked in. There was something different that stood out now, though… He could also smell fresh blood. Someone or something was in here and they were injured enough for the smell of fresh blood to overpower what was always here.

There was a slight rustling to his left and he laid his palm on the handle of his gun, ready to draw if it was needed. There was definitely movement from something large in the shadowed corner. And then it was standing up and moving towards him. He slowly drew his gun and raised it toward the figure.  _ Fuck, it might really BE Bigfoot.  _ The figure stepped forward, emerging from the shadows, and stopped. The light from the windows in the loft illuminated a face and a partial ski mask, a long grey/brown beard and stringy brown hair.

It was Hershel’s bodyguard, Beta.

“Beta. What the fuck?” Rick gasped, holstering his gun as he stared at the giant before him. “Where the fuck have you been? We thought you were dead an’ whoever killed Hershel stole yer damn body.”

“Been here,” the huge man grunted out, walking over to one of the hay bales and sitting down gingerly.

“What happened?” Rick asked.

Beta slowly explained, “Whole group a people showed up an’ started shootin’. I ran out. Saw ‘em gun down Otis and Patricia. Then they went right for Morales and Jimmy. It was dark. I could only see a few of ‘em thanks to the headlights on their trucks. ‘Course, Hershel went runnin’ out. And I was right on his heels.”

Beta paused and took a few deep breaths that looked to be causing him more pain than anything.

“The old man was standin’ right next to me when I took the first bullet,” he went on in his low, deep voice. “And when they shoved him down to the ground, he told me to make ‘em think I’s dead. Told me ta take care of his family… That’s when that mustached asshole pulled Hershel down to his knees an’ hit him in the head with the butt of his rifle. I started ta get up, but they hit with two more shots. Glad the old man made me wear the vest. Next thing I knew, Hershel was jerkin’ backwards like somebody punched him. Shot came from somebody further back, some asshole wearin’ all black in the shadows. None’a the others were hidin’ their faces so I'm guessin’ it was the boss - prob’ly wasn’t takin’ any chances bein’ seen. I got grazed by another shot so I jus’ kept layin’ there. Pretendin’ I was dead. Starin at the boss’ lifeless eyes… There was so much goddamn blood an’ brains. Just a little hole in the forehead, but the back of ‘is head was just… fuckin’ gone.”

Beta leaned back against the wall of the barn, broad shoulders slumped in defeat. This man had spent the last ten years of his life making sure that Hershel Greene stayed alive and Rick could tell that he was feeling the weight of his failure right now. 

“Did all the shots hit yer vest?” Rick asked tentatively. He knew Beta wouldn’t go to the hospital and Rick didn’t particularly want to deal with the paperwork that would come with it. But if he needed to be treated, that meant Rick needed to call Denise and Tara and get them out here. Or better yet, he needed to take Beta to them. 

“Got a through-an’-through in the leg an’ one in my upper arm. Wrapped ‘em as best I could, but it’s not like I’ve been able ta get anywhere to have ‘em stitched up.” Beta pointed to the spot on his sleeve that was darkened and crusted over with dried blood.

Rick had noticed him limping slightly, but not enough to indicate a bullet wound. The fucker really was tough, besides being almost indestructible.

“Well let’s get you ta Tara’s. If yer ready to leave this luxury barn, that is,” Rick suggested, cocking his head to the right and pulling out his cell phone. 

He sent a quick text to Tara, asking if she could close down the veterinarian clinic because he needed to bring a large animal in. Her response contained a lot of emojis he would have to ask her to explain later, and an agreement to come in as soon as he could.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” he told Beta. “You need ta get to their clinic, but there’s reporters all over the driveway. It’s gonna hurt like hell, but I’m gonna back the car in here and yer gonna ha’fta get in the trunk.”

The huge bodyguard gave the sheriff a scowl of displeasure. Then he rolled his eyes and nodded his head in defeat.

“Wait, Rick,” he suddenly said. “Maggie an’ Glenn? Did they make it? Last I saw Maggie, she was screamin’ from up on the roof. And what about Beth? I know Hershel said he had a plan and you had it covered, but is she okay?”

As terrifying as Beta might look, he had become a member of the Greene family. He cared about all of the Greene’s just as they’d cared about him.

“Beth’s fine,” Rick called over his shoulder as he began heading to his cruiser. “Talked to her earlier. I’ll catch ya up on everythin’, let’s make sure ya ain’t gonna bleed out first.”

He got into his vehicle and backed it into the barn as close to where Beta was seated as he could get. Then he jumped out and popped the trunk, moving his rifles and bags into the backseat, making sure there would be enough room for Beta’s large frame.

“Yer fuckin’ serious? I thought you were just bein’ a dick.” Beta looked at him with a hint of outrage on his face. “You want me ta get in this trunk? How the fuck ya plannin’ ta make this work?”

“I dunno,” Rick shrugged. “You do yoga, don’t ya? Fold yerself up in there. It ain’t very far, but I don’t wanna risk anybody seein’ ya. Once you get patched up, I'll take ya to Maggie.” He gestured to the trunk with a wide smile on his face.

It took a lot of maneuvering and some positions that Rick did not think were possible, but a few minutes later, Beta was inside the trunk and the lid was shut. Rick wasted no time flying through the farm and back down the driveway, barely slowing down to get the reporters out of his way. A few of them had to leap aside to avoid getting hit, and he couldn’t help chuckling with amusement. 

* * *

When Hershel retired from being a full-time veterinarian, he left his practice to his assistant. Tara Chambler started working for Hershel the day after she graduated from school, and since none of the kids had decided to follow in his footsteps, the obvious person to take over the practice had been her. The small southern town had initially been a little opposed to Tara. She was a bit brash and always said exactly what was on her mind, but the biggest obstacle was that she was dating the family practice doctor in town, Denise Cloyd. In a mostly redneck town, it’s hard to make people understand, but the two lived their lives with their heads held high. And very soon, with only a few exceptions - old Mrs. Neudermyer to be exact - the town embraced them.

Rick knew that Tara was somewhat aware of Hershel’s less than legal activities, but probably not to the full extent. Once she and Denise were married, Hershel slowly let Denise in on things as well. While the doctor was a little less accepting, she still did just about anything to help. Rick was hoping that good will would extend past Hershel’s death.

He pulled into the small parking lot and drove around to the back of the building, backing the cruiser up to the back door. Tara had seen him pulling around and already had the back door open. She gave Rick a confused look, gesturing to the air.

“Don’t tell me I called Denise in on her day off ‘cause you hit another coyote,” she said. “‘Cause I don’t see a person. You said a large animal and that usually means the kind that I can’t take care of myself.” She rolled her eyes.

“No, I didn’t hit another damn coyote,” Rick snapped. “And for the record, I didn’t hit that thing. I found it on the road and Carl was with me and I couldn’t just leave it there ta die. Just wait a fuckin’ minute.” He walked to the back and popped the trunk, revealing a very aggravated Beta.

“Holy shit, you gumbied Beta!” Tara exclaimed as she ran to the trunk to see how she could help the man unfold himself from inside. She noticed that he was bleeding right away. “Okay, not a coyote. Good thing I called Denise. She should be here any minute now.”

Between the two of them, they freed Beta from the trunk and Tara walked him into the clinic while Rick moved everything back into the trunk. He looked around, making sure that no reporters were hanging around - or possibly someone hoping to get a feel of what was going on.

Beth, Maggie, Glenn, T, and Beta were all alive. More of the men that had attacked the farm had been killed. Unfortunately, the Dixon’s hadn’t been so lucky. Rick only had one eyewitness there and Merle was still in the dark about what exactly happened.

As soon as Denise was done patching Beta up, he would take him to the safe house so he could see that Maggie was okay and then he could start getting some accounts from everyone. Beta had basically given his at the barn, but they could make it official sometime soon at the safe house. He would send Hawthorne out there. See what she thought of the giant. 

Rick pulled out his cell phone to call Shane and let him know it wasn’t Bigfoot wandering around the Greene farm.

Shane answered the phone with, “So’d ya find him? We gonna be millionaires, man?”

“Yep, got pictures ‘fore I tied him up an’ threw him in my trunk,” Rick replied sarcastically. “Nah. It was Beta.”

“Beta’s fuckin’ alive? I thought fer sure he was gone. He see anything?” 

“Yeah, he had some good information for us. I'll fill ya in later, but first I need ya to do me a favor,” Rick instructed. “Grab the file off my desk that Laura just ran. It’s got pictures an’ bios of all the people Beth told me had access to her apartment. Can you bring yer SUV over here, too? I really don’t wanna shove this big guy inta my trunk again.”

“Wait, you were serious? You shoved Beta into yer trunk?” Shane asked, baffled. “How in the actual fuck did ya pull that shit off? Wait - I don’t wanna know. You still at the farm?”

“No, the veterinary clinic. Come to the back parking lot. See ya soon,” Rick said. Then he hung up the phone.

A green compact came around the building and parked next to his cruiser. Denise jumped out of the car, her blonde ponytail already loose and messy and her glasses slightly slipping down her nose as she hurriedly grabbed her medical bag out of the backseat. Rick was fond of the town doc and both of his kids really liked her, especially Judith.

“Is this gonna be an all day thing, Rick?” She asked, approaching him. “I was kinda thinkin’ about actually having a day off for once.” Denise nudged him with her shoulder as she leaned against his car with him.

“Nah, shouldn’t be bad… Well, I don’t think it will. But yer the pro.” Rick smiled as he gazed down at her.

“Yes, sir, I am,” she sighed. “I’d better get in there and see what I’m dealing with.” She patted Rick’s arm as she walked into the clinic.

Rick pulled out his phone again to check his email while he waited for Shane. He had three new emails from Lori wanting to make sure that he had remembered her and Shane’s upcoming week-long anniversary trip to Puerto Rico because he would have the kids and needed to make sure he had sufficient childcare. This was probably the twentieth email about this that she’d sent. Fuck, he wasn’t going to forget that quickly. Right now, he was kind of hoping that with all of the shit storm that had just hit their town, he would have to cancel Shane’s vacation. Just to see if his ex-wife’s head would explode.

The next email was from Daryl. He and Beth were leaving Nashville and heading up to the cabin. There was no landline in the cabin and Daryl wasn’t sure what cell service would be like, but the guy that owned the cabin had a house about a half-mile away with a landline and Wifi. Daryl assured that he would give Rick the landline number once they’d safely made it up there. 

Rick was able to get through most of the new messages in his inbox before Shane pulled into the parking lot. 

“So Beta’s alive?” Shane asked as soon as he hopped out of the SUV. “Figured he jus’ wasn’t at the house that night. Thought he might be hidin’ out.” He was grabbing his bags out of his vehicle, heading towards the trunk of Rick’s cruiser. 

“Might wanna put those in the backseat till we get the trunk cleaned. Told ya I had ta shove the big bastard into the trunk. He was messy.” Rick laughed at the look of bewilderment that crossed his partner’s face. “Hershel told ‘im to protect the girls, so Beta played dead. I guess he’s been holed up in the barn since.”

Rick shrugged. Beta was a very different breed of person, but he was loyal to Hershel and the Greene family so he had Rick’s respect.

“I’m takin’ him to the safe house soon as he’s patched up,” Rick said. “Ya bring that file for me?”

Shane nodded his head and grabbed it from the passenger seat. 

“I’m headin’ back to the Dixon place,” Shane explained, handing over the file. “Feel like we’re missin’ somethin’ there. Gonna walk the property an’ see if I can get a better handle on it. Ya sure Daryl don’t know anything ‘bout what’s been goin’ on over there?” He took the keys to Rick’s cruiser.

Rick shook his head. “Nah, he hasn’t had anythin’ to do with them fer years. I can ask him, but he’s prob’ly even more clueless than we are. Lemme know if ya find anything.”

Shane grunted. “Yep.”

Rick patted the top of the cruiser and walked away, heading into the clinic. A second later, he heard the sound of the car come to life followed by Shane leaving the parking lot.

By the time he got into the back surgical area, Denise was finishing up the stitches on Beta’s arm, who was gritting his teeth in pain.

“Wouldn’t let ya numb the arm, huh?” Rick asked with a laugh.

“No, apparently it’s more fun to be a man in pain than a man with a numb arm that can’t feel every time I pull a needle through his skin.” Denise reprimanded Beta with a look.

“Need my head clear, Doc,” Beta said with an expression that wasn’t quite readable due to the half-ski mask that he never took off.

Denise finished up the final stitch and said, “Well, he’s done. I gave him a shot of a pretty hardcore antibiotic to hopefully stop any infections that were most likely already starting since he’s been rollin’ around in a barn for the last few days. I’m gonna write him a script as well. I’m puttin’ it in your name, Rick. I know he can’t have any paper trail right now.”

“Sounds good,” Rick nodded.

She removed her gloves and walked to the sink to wash her hands. “Beta knows what to do, but just remind him to keep his bandages and stitches dry till they can be removed. Should only be about two weeks. I’m assuming someone will know how to take ‘em out. Change the bandage every night and if it gets inflamed or hot, starts leaking some nasty stuff, or you have seizures or severe headaches, call me right away. Don’t try an’ tough that one out. ‘Cause if you do, you’ll die.”

Beta grunted unhappily but Rick merely hummed in agreement and said, “Got it.”

Denise packed her bag and went over to kiss her wife before walking out the back door.

“I’m going home to binge-watch terrible TV,” she called over her shoulder. “See you at home, Tara.”

Tara walked over to Rick and Beta and laid a hand on Beta’s good shoulder. “C’mon guys, I’ll help get this one in the car. You aren’t plannin’ to put him in the trunk again, are you?” 

“No, Walsh brought his truck over. I think he can lay down in the backseat while we get where we're goin’. Thanks for this, Tara.” Rick leaned over to hug the younger woman.

“No problem, just find the bastards that did this and I'll be at your service no matter what. Even for any coyotes you might hit.” She gave him a grim smile.

“I didn’t hit that fuckin’ coyote! Found it in the damn road,” Rick muttered. “Why doesn’t anybody believe me?”

The ride to the safe house was quiet. Beta had thankfully fallen asleep, even though he had to be in a great amount of pain. He’d been shot and then patched up with no pain meds. Denise had covertly showed Rick that she’d also written a script for pain meds. Hopefully they would be able to get Beta to take some once he was settled at the house. 

* * *

The safe house was actually another farm, much smaller than the Greene’s were used to, but it was out of the way and the agents had perfect sight lines all around. There wouldn’t be any unwelcome visitors at this house.

Rick parked the SUV as close to the door as he could. He kept his hand on his gun as he opened the door closest to the house for Beta and ushered him inside, nodding to the agent that was sitting on the porch. As soon as he opened the door to the house, Maggie came running from another room and stopped when she saw who Rick had brought with him.

“Beta!” She ran to the huge man and crashed into his broad chest, jarring his injured arm and leg. Beta just clenched his jaw and let the brunette hug him. Glenn had also come around the corner and spotted the look on Beta’s face. He hurried over to pull Maggie away from him. 

“Babe, he’s hurt,” Glenn told her soothingly. “Let’s let him sit down so you don’t injure him more.” He gently pulled her away from Beta and moved out of the way so he and Rick could make it down the hallway to the living room.

Two agents were sitting in the room and got up to leave when the group walked in. One of them stopped to tell Rick they’d be in the kitchen and that, before he left, they wanted to go over some security protocols with him. Rick gave a single nod and then proceeded to sit in one of the chairs next to the fire place.

There was a noise on the stairs and T appeared at the top. H made his way down quickly, eyes on Beta the whole time. “Holy shit, man - we thought you was dead!”

“Not yet,” Beta grunted as he took up the entire couch, finally able to fully stretch out his injured leg.

“I’ll let you get the whole story from him in a bit,” Rick said. “But I need you four to look at these pictures an’ tell me if you recognize anybody.” He began to lay out the pictures of Jessie, Amy, and Gareth.

He’d barely placed the picture of Gareth down before Maggie was jumping up from the floor and grabbing it.

“Yes!” She cried. “This guy was there that night - I almost shot the motherfucker, but Glenn pulled me back before I could. That’s the guy that killed Otis!” She was shoving the picture in Rick’s face like he hadn’t just put it on the table.

“Maggie, I need you ta calm down and look at it one more time,” Rick said firmly. The gut feeling he’d been dealing with earlier was growing stronger. “Really look at it… are you  _ sure _ this man was there that night? Can anyone else remember seein’ him?”

“Yeah, he was there,” T chimed in, corroborating her claim. “I saw him, too.”

“Fuck,” Rick mumbled under his breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” It was no longer a bad feeling now so much as it was pure panic.

“Rick Grimes, you’d better tell me what’s goin’ on right this goddamn minute,” Maggie demanded, eyebrows raised and glare furiously set on him.

“That’s Gareth West,” Rick told her, his icy blue eyes meeting her green. “He’s Beth’s boyfriend.” A look of apprehension passed between the two of them.

“Her what? Bethy doesn’t  _ have _ a boyfriend,” Maggie said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I would know, I’m her sister.”

“She does,” Beta spoke up from the couch. “Hershel had me send his name and fingerprint to Eugene.”

“No - no, that’s not possible. Why wouldn't I know?” Maggie slowly descended into panic. “No, yer mistaken. There’s no way.”

T looked from Rick to Maggie with wide eyes. “She brought him to the farm when you an’ Glenn were up in Boston workin’ out that new deal. I think she waited till she knew you wouldn’t be there to question him.”

“Eugene ran a full background check on him and nothin’ came up,” Beta added with certainty. “He was clean. Hershel would’ve dealt with it if he knew something wasn’t right.”

“Well, something wasn’t right because he was there,” Maggie said, jumping up and beginning to pace again. “He killed Otis. He knows where my baby sister lives - fuck, he’s  _ BEEN _ with my baby sister!”

“Hey, he’s got no idea where she’s at,” Rick assured. “I’m gonna make a call an’ make sure who she’s with knows what’s goin’ on. I’ll have ‘em keep an eye out for him. Then I’m gonna call Atlanta PD and see if we can get him brought in.”

He was already gathering up his folder and walking towards the front door. He needed to be back in his office so he could start trying to connect the dots. That also meant getting in touch with Eugene Porter to find out if he could do a little more digging on Gareth. That conversation would of course be confusing and entertaining

“Rick!” Maggie yelled and came running up to him. “You’ve gotta keep her safe. Please.” Tears were building up in her eyes and she reached out, hugging him tightly. 

Rick held onto her until she pulled away and he knew she had a better handle on herself.

“I’m gonna do everything I can ta keep y’all safe,” he reassured her. “We’ll find the fuckers that did this. I promise.”

He poked his head into the kitchen to tell the agent that he would have to come back later for that protocol chat because something important had just come up.

He jumped in the car and automatically pulled up the email that Daryl had sent him, praying that he’d sent it this morning. 

“Fuck!” Rick smacked his hands on the steering wheel.

He’d sent it yesterday. Beth and Daryl were already in the mountains and without cell service.

Hoping that he was wrong, Rick tried to call Daryl. But it went right to voicemail. He left a desperate message telling him to call back the moment he got the message. Rick also sent a text and an email right afterwards.

The possibility of Gareth locating the two of them was small, sure. But right now, Rick’s cop senses were firing on all cylinders. Beta was alive. Gareth had been the one to kill Patricia and Otis. What the hell was next?

He didn’t know, but he was starting to believe that anything could happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week I PROMISE we will know what happened to Daryl and who it was behind him.


	11. Kill Bill Vol. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes to hell...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was mean to have a two week cliffhanger, but the answers are here! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**Kill Bill Vol. 1**

Why the fuck did she have to sing that song? She hadn’t been thinking. She just started strumming the chords and then the familiar lyrics were falling from her lips. He’d mentioned it was his favorite song, but she didn't know it would bring that kind of reaction. She should have —look what happened in the car today when she’d heard  _ In My Blood _ . The expression on his face when she’d finished singing and looked up at him... it was like she’d slapped him across the face. He barely even looked at her before he was jumping off the couch, putting on his boots and quickly walking out the door towards the back of the cabin.

Beth had tried to follow him, calling his name, but she wasn’t wearing shoes and she didn’t think he really wanted company. How had she managed to screw up such a good day so fast? 

She set the guitar back on the couch and went up to the loft. She laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Daryl’s face kept flashing in her head. She’d hurt him somehow. The thoughts in her head were beginning to close in on her. She hadn’t realized she was crying until she felt the tears pooling around her ears on the pillow. Fuck!

She wasn’t going to do this anymore. She wasn’t going to punish herself for things she couldn’t control. She would get up, make something to eat, and check out Ozzy’s movie collection. Daryl would be back at some point. He  _ had _ to come back. She’d only known him for a few days, but he wasn’t the type of person that would just abandon her. He probably just needed to clear his head.

With a plan in mind, Beth pushed herself off the bed and slowly made her way down the stairs. She stopped in front of the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of Daryl making his way back to the cabin. There was no sign of him. The old CB radio was nestled into a small opening on the kitchen counter. Maybe she’d call Ozzy and ask him to send Daryl back to the cabin if he saw him. She’d love to see his reaction as he tried to figure out exactly what type of honeymoon they were having.

She grabbed a bag of chips and two more bottles of beer --the two from earlier still unopened on the coffee table. Daryl’s phone and the keys to the cabin and truck were laying on the island, so he wasn’t going to be able to get that far away even if he wanted to. Even though they were out in the middle of nowhere, she still felt the need to walk over to the front door and turn the deadbolt. Daryl wouldn’t care. He’d knock when he came back. 

Beth wandered over to the low shelves that were under the TV, studying all the movies Ozzy owned. She enjoyed his careful attention to alphabetizing by title. One caught her eye and she couldn’t help laughing because, why the fuck not. This was her life now, right? She pulled the copy of  _ The Godfather  _ off the shelf and slid the disc into the player. The TV sprang to life and a quick search of the top of the bookshelf produced the remote to the Blu-ray player and the TV.

The couch was as comfortable as it looked and Beth nestled herself in with her beers and chips before hitting Play. By the time the movie had reached her favorite part and Beth was quoting, “ _ Leave the gun, take the cannoli,”  _ she’d finished the four beers in front of her. She hadn’t been paying attention to what she was doing and the alcohol was going to her head. She wasn’t drunk yet, but she was feeling pretty good. Looking over at the clock on the oven, she noticed that Daryl had been gone for close to three hours.

She was beginning to worry about him when someone knocked on the door.

Beth jumped up, but it must have been a little too fast and the combination of beer and altitude had her swaying and seeing spots in front of her eyes. ‘ _ Get your shit together, Greene.’ _ She shook her head and called out, “Hang on!”

She made it to the door and threw open the deadbolt. She jerked the door open, fully intending to let Daryl know how much he’d worried her. But it wasn’t Daryl on the other side of the door. It wasn’t Ozzy, either.

“Gareth?” She whispered, shock and a small jolt of fear shooting through her chest. “What’re you doin’ here?” 

“I came to see you, baby. I missed you.”

He stepped into the house and moved like he was going to hug her, but his right arm came up and he smacked her across the face with the back of his hand. Pain exploded through her head. She didn’t even have time to react before Gareth was grabbing her ponytail and throwing her to the ground.

Why had she drank all those beers? Her reactions were off and she wasn’t able to get away from him before he was on top of her again.

Beth wasn’t sure what to expect when he landed on top of her, but the last thing she saw before blacking out was his right fist heading straight for her face. 

* * *

When Beth finally came to, she was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs with her hands painfully restrained behind the back of the chair. Looking down, she saw layers of tape around her waist, anchoring her to the seat. She tried to move her feet, but they were tightly bound to the chair legs. There was movement to her left and she tried to turn her head, immediately regretting the decision when pain raced from her cheekbone through her body. She could taste blood in her mouth and her right shoulder was throbbing. She wasn’t sure if it was from the way her arms were restrained or from something else. Waves of nausea were rolling through her body and every breath seemed to take her that much closer to puking her guts out.

“It’s about time you woke up, princess! Thought you were gonna be out all day.” His voice ripped through her head and she was finally able to fight the nausea down enough to lift her head and stare at him.

He was sitting on the island, leaning forward slightly like he did every time he’d been at her apartment. His straight brown hair had fallen into his eyes and he was calmly eating one of her apples, smiling at her and swinging his stupid legs like a child.

Gareth jumped down and slowly walked forward, crouching down in front of her. He reached around to make sure the tape on her arms was still holding. “I bet you’re surprised to see me, aren’t ya? Fuck, the two of you made this difficult enough. If you would’ve just stayed home, I wouldn’t have had to drive all the way to this fucking backwoods state --I wouldn’t have to be getting  _ my _ hands dirty. No, you’ve got to take some trip with  _ Daryl Dixon  _ of all people. You know the shit his family’s into? I mean, you’re a Greene so your family has more skeletons than  _ anyone _ , but really? A  _ Dixon _ ?”

Her head was still swimming, so it took her a few moments to process what he’d just said. But when she realized he was talking about her family like he knew the truth, her widening eyes must have given her away.

“There ya go, you’re getting it now, aren’t ya? Yeah, I know who your dad is,” he said, grinnin. “I know all about his dirty deeds. Did ya really think I’d be with somebody like you? C’mon, Beth. You’re smarter than that. I mean you’re cute an’ all, but what guy wants to be with a girl that’s as inexperienced as you? All legs and a flat chest? No, you were just the access I needed --and I do appreciate  _ all _ the  _ access  _ you gave me.”

She couldn't believe what he was saying to her… This man that she’d loved, that she’d shared her body and bed with, had just been using her the whole time?

“Why?” She managed to croak out.

He must’ve found this to be one of the funniest things she’d ever said, because he threw his head back and laughed at her. “Are you really that stupid? Do ya really need to ask why? I guess you do. It’s pretty simple, sweetheart. Your dad is Hershel Greene.”

Gareth stood up then and walked behind her. She could feel him gripping the back of the chair, and then he was leaning down to rest his chin on her head. 

Holy shit, this guy was insane.  _ Actually _ insane. And for the past year, she’d let him have his hands and mouth all over her. The chips and beer she’d eaten were threatening to come back up as he moved his hands to her shoulders.

“When your daddy is the biggest mob boss on the east coast, he’s got a lotta enemies. And one day, all those enemies start wanting to collect. I work for a man that’s decided it’s  _ his _ turn to collect. He’s very powerful… but he’s not powerful enough. Now that the Greene Family is no more --well, things are about to get real good for the rest of us.” He wasn’t moving from behind her and not being able to see his face was making her skin crawl more than it already had been.

She’d been fighting back tears because she didn’t want him to see her cry. He didn’t  _ get _ her tears anymore. But her body had different plans and she could feel the salty tears mixing painfully with the cut on her lip.

“You’re just the final piece of the puzzle, Bethy. Once you’re cold and six feet under like the rest of your family, my boss won't have any more speed bumps. I tried to keep myself outta this… I didn’t wanna be the one to have to end your life, sweetheart --but you just had to  _ run _ . Didn’t work out for you though, did it?”

“How’d you find us?” Beth hissed through gritted teeth. She was hoping if she kept him talking long enough, Daryl would come back. Unless Gareth had found him first --which would mean he wasn’t going to be coming for her.

No, she couldn’t think like that. He’d be here. She just needed to buy some time and have a little faith.

“How the fuck do you think, you stupid cunt?” He grabbed her ponytail and jerked her head back painfully, so she was forced to look at him. “You had to call and let me know you were okay. Then one of our tech guys kept calling the phone to get a trace. Only took a few hours to hack into your new boyfriend’s email and get the address of your little hideout. I got here last night, waited till you showed up. I was trying to find the best way to deal with  _ both _ of you, but then Daryl made it so much easier by leaving you here alone.” He released her hair and pushed her head forward forcefully. “He was easy to take out, wandering out in the woods all alone. Two good hits with a rock and the trash’ll be out for a long time. Maybe a really long time.” He smirked malevolently.

Beth sucked in a breath, giving Gareth more amunition than he already had. 

“Oh, so you’re  _ worried _ about him? Oh Bethy, Bethy, Bethy… You’ve done so much better than him. I mean, look at me. We just won't let it get out that you followed me with some white trash like him. Have to keep my reputation intact, especially with the  _ promotion _ I’m about to get.”

Gareth leaned in closer to her and she stiffened with revulsion. The nearer he was, the sicker she felt. He started to run his hands up and down her arms and leaned down, his mouth right by her ear.

“Listen, baby,” he whispered. “I’ve got a lotta shit to finish tying up, so I need you to tell me where the letter from Hershel is. Then we can get on with killing you.” 

Beth was squirming in the chair, trying to get away from his touch and his presence. Letter? What fucking letter was he talking about? Her dad had never given her a letter, he’d never even sent her one that she could recall.

Gareth’s hands tightened around her biceps, painfully digging into her skin. “The letter, Beth! I know he left it for you, tell me where it is.” 

“I don’t know what letter yer talking about!” She spat. His grip tightened even more, causing her to cry out. 

What happened next seemed to be in slow motion and fast forward at the same time. Someone whistled from the front door, like they were trying to get someone’s attention. Then there was a loud  _ thunk _ and Gareth was falling forward. He hit the chair Beth was currently tied to and sent her crashing sideways, landing on her shoulder with a painful jolt. 

She barely had time to register what happened when Daryl appeared, reaching down and pulling her back up. He used a large hunting knife to cut the tape from her wrists, waist, and ankles. Beth was finally able to take a breath and looked up at him to see blood flowing from a cut on his forehead.

She raised her hand to gently touch it before Daryl was pulling her into his arms and crushing her to his chest. “Fuck, girl --are you okay?” He was growling into her hair.

She nodded her head and then pulled back, looking down at Gareth. He was lying unconscious on the floor.

“Holy fuck, Daryl! Holy! Fuck!” Beth’s hands were shaking and she wasn’t sure if it was from pain or adrenaline. Daryl wasn’t answering her, too busy setting Gareth’s lifeless body into the chair that she’d just been in.

“Grab that duct tape.” Daryl gestured with his head towards the floor where Gareth had dropped it. “Need to get this fucker restrained ‘fore he comes to.”

He taped Gareth to the chair the same way that Beth had been, but added a piece of tape across his mouth. Seeing him sitting there and knowing what he’d planned to do to her had Beth running to the bathroom, no longer able to fight the nausea that had been building. She barely made it to the toilet in time, collapsing to her knees before the porcelain bowl and violently emptying her stomach.

At some point, she’d started sobbing, her body no longer in her own control as the dry heaves took over. Daryl was behind her, kneeling down and placing a comforting hand on the small of her back. He was making small circles with his palm and pressing a wet cloth to the back of her neck.

“Fuck, Beth. I’m so sorry,” Daryl muttered. He had settled onto the floor just outside the small cove that housed the toilet and leaned his head back against the wall. “I shoulda realized that usin’ my phone email was stupid. Shit, why didn’t Rick and I think about my fuckin’ phone? Damn, I led that fucker right to us. Fuck!”

No, she wasn’t going to let him blame himself for this. She was the one that had actually been  _ dating _ that prick. She crawled out of the small room and settled next to Daryl. He lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders as she laid her head on his shoulder. 

“This isn’t yer fault, Daryl. I’d be dead if you hadn’t shown up when you did. God, of course the guy I’ve been dating is a  _ psychopath _ .” She felt Daryl’s shoulders shaking under her head and she lifted her head up to look at him, not sure what he could possibly have to laugh at right now.

“I knew I didn’t like that guy.” Beth would later blame the shock, but she started laughing with him and soon they were both trying to catch their breath. Daryl stood up, tossing the wet washcloth onto the counter. “We gotta get back out there. He’s gonna be wakin’ up soon an’ I’m sure you got some questions ya want answered.” 

Beth nodded her head and pushed herself up off the floor. “I’ll meet ya out there in just a second.” She needed some time to pull herself together before she went out there and faced the man that had been lying to her for over a year.

Ozzy had thankfully stocked the bathroom and Beth found a small bottle of mouthwash and a glass next to one of the sinks. She rinsed her mouth and did a cursory check of her injuries. Her cheek under her right eye was starting to swell and there was a small cut on the right side of her mouth, but that was all she could see. The physical damage wasn’t bad. It was the mental shit she was afraid of --once she had time to process everything. She needed to check out the gash on Daryl’s head and make sure he didn't have any other injuries. Gareth  _ did _ say he hit him with a rock. 

Daryl was sitting on the stairs to the loft, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his folded hands. He was slowly moving them across his beard, his eyes never leaving Gareth’s unconscious form. Beth went to stand next to him, leaning against the railing. She was going to be avoiding chairs for at least the next few hours.

“What letter was he talkin’ bout?” Daryl asked. “Seemed like it was important to him.”

“I don’t know. I really don’t.” She shrugged her shoulders, never taking her eyes off of the ass in front of her. “My dad never wrote me a letter, or gave me one. How would Gareth have even known if he had?” Beth was slowly shaking her head, trying to make sense of the past hour. 

Muffled sounds were coming from the kitchen area: Gareth had woken up and was trying to speak.

Daryl stood and began menacingly walking towards him.

“Daryl, wait.” Beth walked past him and stopped right in front of the chair. She drew her hand back and slapped Gareth as hard as she could across the face.

His head violently snapped to the side and she grabbed the edge of the tape covering his mouth. She slowly peeled it away, wanting him to feel every painful second of his skin releasing. 

“Baby, if I’d known you liked it rough, we’d’ve had way more fun.”

That earned him another slap to the face. Daryl was suddenly behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back. Her feet came off the floor as she tried to kick the man she could no longer slap.

“We ain’t gonna get any answers if ya knock him out again,” Daryl growled as he sat her back down on the ground, giving her a questioning look before he backed away. She nodded, letting him know that she wasn’t going to lash out again.

“I’m okay. Just needed to get that outta my system.” She gave him a reassuring glance before her attention settled on Gareth again. His nose was bleeding and he had a cut on his upper lip that matched hers. 

“You hit that yet?” Gareth asked Daryl. “I mean, it’s a nice tight fit, but no excitement. If ya know what I mean.”

Daryl pointed a finger at him and glared. “If you don’t shut yer mouth, I’m  _ gonna _ let her kick yer ass.” He pulled the other kitchen chair in front of Gareth, sitting down and squinting at him, before he pulled his hunting knife from the sheath he’d attached to his belt. He pressed the sharpened tip into his thumb, enough to dent the skin but not break it. “Ya know yer not walkin’ outta here, right? Tried to kill both of us, traumatized Beth, pissed  _ me _ the fuck off.”

Daryl gestured between the three of them with his knife. Something had changed in him, almost like he’d put on a mask. A chill went up Beth’s spine as she realized that he’d probably questioned someone like this before he walked away from his family.

“What makes you think I'll say a damn word to you?” Even being taped to a chair and being threatened with a knife, Gareth somehow exuded a sense of complete calm, as though he were just relaxing and hanging out with a couple of friends.

Daryl pointed his knife at Beth again and said, “Because  _ she’s _ still alive. If you weren’t a cocky bastard wantin’ to run yer mouth, you’d have killed her the second ya saw ‘er. But ya came in here an’ started givin’ speeches.”

Gareth shifted in his seat a small amount of that self-certainty faded away.

“Ya like ta talk. Like ta hear yer own voice. So talk. What’s this letter you think she’s got?”

Beth watched as Gareth thought about what Daryl had just said. Then he looked at her and smiled, blood smeared across his front teeth. “Hershel Greene was a smart man. Didn’t keep a single record in his house. But he did tell a former associate of ours--fairly recently actually--that if something happened to him, it was okay… ‘cause everything was in Doodlebug’s letter.”

Her heart started pounding as she thought about the nickname her father had for her. How would  _ she _ know everything? She’d distanced herself so far from everything her family did, there was no way she would know what was going on. But there was no one else that her father would refer to with that name.

“That’s you, right?  _ Doodlebug?  _ C’mon, Beth, ya gotta know what I’m talkin’ about. Don’t play stupid just ‘cause this guy’s fallin’ for your innocent act.” He turned his brown eyes towards Daryl, flashing an evil smile. “She give ya the sob story about her slitting her wrists yet? Bitch was in need of attention because Daddy wasn’t really Santa Claus come to life.”

He’d always downplayed what she’d done after she told him, always refused to believe that she’d ever had a good enough reason to do such a thing. He’d told her that she did it so she wouldn’t seem so innocent to everyone. He hadn’t been around when she did it, but in his mind, it was just because she wanted more  _ attention _ .

Daryl just shook his head and twirled the knife around in his hand. “How ‘bout we talk about this boss of yours? I’m guessin’ he’s the one that’s after this letter ya want so bad.” He stood up and walked around so he was standing behind him, just like Gareth had done to Beth earlier. She hoped Gareth was feeling the same amount of fear that she’d felt. 

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Gareth said. “I’m dead if I tell you, and I’m dead if I don’t. So I think I’m just gonna take this little secret to the grave with me. I’ll tell you this much: when he approached me with this job, I didn’t know I was gonna end up spending over a year of my life dealing with all of her  _ issues _ . I was supposed to get all the information I could on the Greene farm and this little pain in the ass. That part was easy. Damn, she couldn’t wait to take me home to meet daddy! I had that place mapped out the first time I visited. You should be more careful in the future, Bethy. You bein’ such an easy target an’ all… it’s the reason your daddy has a bullet hole in his head right now.”

Her mouth went dry and everything she’d been thinking since she found out the truth about Gareth was running through her head. This  _ was _ her fault. Her dad was dead because of her. She and Daryl were practically running for their lives all because of her. Maybe she  _ should’ve _ been in her apartment that night --none of this would be happening now if she had been. Her daddy would still be dead, but at least she would be with him. And Mama and Shawn.

Daryl’s voice broke through the dark and never-ending stream of thoughts, “Hey. Beth. Don’t listen to ‘im, he’s got no clue what the fuck he’s talkin’ about. He’s just a dead man tryin’ to cause as much pain as he can.”

Gareth was laughing at the sight of Daryl trying to calm Beth down and for some reason, that made her even angrier than hearing him speak all of the terrible things that she’d already been telling herself. She walked right in front of him, grabbed his chin, and forced him to look up at her. She enjoyed the painful wince that crossed his face.

“You’re gonna tell me  _ why _ ,” she hissed. “I  _ loved _ you. I let you into my bed -- _ and _ my heart. So you at least owe me one goddamn explanation.” Beth gave his head a jerk as she let go of his face.

Gareth smiled at her again. If her mom had seen that smile, she would’ve said it was like seeing the devil himself smile. His head cocked to the side. “You were an easy promotion… a nice way to get my dick wet while I made my way to the top.”

Beth took a step back like he’d slapped her, the stupid fucking tears filling her eyes again. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she was able to get the words out, Daryl had put his knife to Gareth’s neck and quickly jerked the sharp blade across it. Blood sprayed onto Beth’s shirt from one of his arteries and he gave a few short gurgling breaths before the chin she’d just been holding hit his chest. His entire body went limp and motionless.

Daryl looked at her, opening his mouth like he wanted to explain what had just happened. Beth didn't give him a chance.

She wasn’t sure if it was the shock of what she’d just seen, the adrenaline from the entire day, or maybe just pure instinct, but she was walking around Gareth’s dead body and straight to Daryl. She pulled the knife from Daryl’s grasp and let it fall to the floor with a clatter.

Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In My Blood has been nominated for [The Moonshine Awards](https://ultimatebethylficlist.com/2020/01/27/moonshine-awards-2019-voting-now-open/) I have another fic [The Shower Head](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22014361) and my series [Happy New Year's Baby](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582690) nominated as well! If you haven't voted yet check out the voting! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and next week we pick up right where we left off! 
> 
> Thanks as always to my amazing beta [SquishyCool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquishyCool/pseuds/SquishyCool)... she also has quite a few works nominated for The Moonshine Awards, including the fic that inspire In My Blood and is by far my favorite fic... [Most Wanted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13062762/chapters/29879541) give her some love in the awards! She's the reason that this gets out every Sunday!


	12. Kill Bill Vol.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened after Beth kissed Daryl? There's also that pesky dead body to deal with...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are picking up right where we left off last week! This is the last few moments from Daryl's POV and then the aftermath. 
> 
> So this is fanfiction... let's just assume that everyone knows everyone... it makes my life easier! LOL!!!! I know everyone thinks that Beth and Daryl need to get out of the cabin, but well they are staying for a bit. I have a plan!
> 
> Thanks as always to my beta SquishyCool!

**Kill Bill Vol. 2**

“You were an easy promotion… a nice way to get my dick wet while I made my way to the top.”

Daryl would never forget the look on Beth’s face when Gareth offered that as an explanation to why he’d fucked with her life for so long. She’d taken a step back and Daryl’s first instinct was to go to her, but the urge to hurt this guy was much stronger. It was like muscle memory from a time he’d tried to distance himself from. His hunting blade was always sharp—never knew when you might come across a deer in the woods and need to dress it to haul it home. The knife easily slid through the skin, muscle, and arteries of Gareth’s throat, blood sprayed out and left a bloody streak across Beth’s yellow T-shirt. The same sounds that he’d heard animals make in their final moments were coming from Gareth’s throat. And then he was still, his head falling to his chest. 

Daryl didn’t notice Beth walking towards him until she was gently taking his knife out of his hand. His brain was telling him to apologize to her. For letting this dick follow them, for killing him right in front of her, for allowing the part of him he’d thought was buried come to the surface in a moment of rage. Or just for ruining her shirt. She didn’t let him speak, though. She actually stopped his brain from doing anything. One second, she was dropping his knife to the floor and the next, her arms were around his neck and she was kissing him.

This wasn’t a ‘ _ thank god that’s over’ _ peck that lasted less than a second either. This was her pressing her lips hard against his. Her tongue was running along the seam of his lips and forcing them open. He raised his hands to tangle in her hair and pull her closer, deepening the kiss, when someone cleared their throat from the front door.

Daryl jumped back from Beth and quickly turned towards the front door, his mind already racing with how the fuck he was going to explain this situation to whoever had just shown up. Ozzy was standing there, both arms braced on the door as he gawked at the bloody scene in front of him with wide eyes.

“Holy shit. This what you two decide to do on yer honeymoon?” His glance was shifting between the two of them. 

“Uh, fuck…” Daryl dragged his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe they would both be safer if they were locked up in the county jail out here.

No, because when you murder someone, you go to  _ federal _ prison. And neither one of them would be safe there. Dammit ,was he going to have to kill this man, too? That list he’d refused to add to for years was going to get a lot longer before this was all over.

“He tried to kill us first!” Beth exclaimed with a guilty look on her face.

Daryl shot her an exasperated side-eye. That’s the story she was going with?

“Well yeah, I kinda figured that,” Ozzy said simply. Okay, maybe Beth’s plan wasn’t that stupid after all. “Was comin’ ta check on you folks. I found a car hidden in some trees about five miles up the road from where y'all turned into my place. Went back to my house first ta check the license plate—this dead fucker hit me with somethin’ an’ tied me to a chair… kinda like ya got him tied up. Had to do some awkward maneuvers to get somewhere ta cut the tape off my hands.” Ozzy had moved into the cabin now and was looking down curiously at Gareth’s body. “Ya know, that's why I got rid of the original hardwood: people used to clean their kills in the kitchen. Y’got any idea how hard it is to get those stains out? With tile, ya just wipe it up. Splash on some bleach afterwards—fer hygienic purposes.”

Daryl knew he was staring at Ozzy and he was pretty sure he looked as dumbfounded as Beth did right now. Was this guy really talking about tile when he’d just walked in on them kissing over a dead body?

“Listen,” Daryl interjected. “I know ya gotta call this in, bein’ a park ranger an’ all, but Beth’s tellin’ the truth. He attacked both of us. Had every intention of killin’ her.” 

Ozzy stuck his hand up, cutting Daryl off before he could tell him anymore. “Just one question, ‘fore you continue with yer admission of guilt—which ya probably shouldn’t do without a lawyer present.” He looked over to Beth, her face losing what little color it had slowly been gaining back. “You Hershel Greene’s daughter? Beth?”

Beth and Daryl shared a look of shock, and she was looking to him for answers. He shrugged his shoulders then nodded at her. What could it hurt at this point?

“Yeah, he was my dad.” Her voice was flat, and so were her eyes. “Why?” 

She was letting herself completely shut down. After everythign she’d told Daryl—fuck, was that just this morning?—he was afraid of what might be going through her head. He wanted to be able to sit her down on the couch and talk to her, but there was a much bigger situation at hand.

“I knew your dad,” Ozzy smiled. “Few years ago, a big lumber company wanted to come up here an’ buy all the land that bordered the park. Hershel heard about it, caught wind that a bunch of us rangers were tryin’ to raise money to stop ‘em. Your father joined in on the discussions and three hours later, the bigwigs left the building and never came back. Called Hershel ‘bout a year or so later—there was a crazy Doomsday cult that was livin’ in the park. Nobody would do anything about ‘em, but I knew somethin’ wasn’t right. The chick that runs it, she’s a crazy one. Shaved head, rubs dirt all over herself. She had this big motherfucker that used to follow her around an’ scare off anybody that got anywhere close to her. Fer some reason, I called yer dad. He came out an’ talked to ‘em. Next thing I know, they’re all gone and he’s takin’ that big guy back with him!”

Ozzy was looking at Beth with the respect he probably had for her dad, his smile growing a little wider. “Always wanted to pay back what he did fer me. I recognized you from the newspaper an’ figured I’d come up with somethin’ while you was out here on yer honeymoon.”

Beth was just staring at him with wide eyes. He wasn’t entirely sure she was mentally there anymore. “Your family’s pretty much all over the news. Kind of an odd time to get married, ain’t it? That’s not the point, anyways. I guess I can pay him back by helpin’ you get rid of this body, huh?”

Ozzy shoved his hands into his pants pocket and rocked back and forth on his feet, nodding his head and glancing around the cabin nonchalantly. “Good thing we got a lotta carnivorous animals ‘round these mountains!”

“Are you sayin’ yer gonna help us get rid of him? Fer good?” Daryl wanted to make sure that he’d heard right before he allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. He needed to make sure Beth was alright. She wasn’t dealing very well at the moment. Getting rid of her dead boyfriend in the living room would probably help. It would at least be a start.

Ozzy was nodding his head, “Yeah, that’s what I’m sayin’ alright. We need to get it done soon, too. ‘Fore this guy bleeds all over the floor. Who was he anyhow?”

Daryl started to answer, but Beth got there before him.

“He’s my boyfriend.” She had slid down onto the floor and her back was against the couch. She was pulling her blood-crusted shirt from her body, staring down at it and her blood-stained hands.

Ozzy’s face pulled into a comical grimace as he looked between the three of them, “Soooo, he didn’t take the news of y’all’s marriage too well, I’m guessin’.”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Daryl grumbled. “Any ideas on what to do with the fucker?” He picked up his knife from where Beth had dropped it and started to cut through the tape holding Gareth to the chair. He wasn’t thinking and pushed him from the chair. The body made a dull thump as it hit the ground. Beth jumped up when his dead eyes landed on her, then she ran up the stairs to the loft. “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Just let her go. She probably don’t wanna be hangin’ around in bloody clothes.” Ozzy stopped him before he went following after her. “Let’s deal with this guy. He got a name, or we just callin’ him ex-boyfriend?” He was scrounging around a small supply closet and made a noise of triumph when he held up a new plastic shower curtain. “We can wrap him in this for now with a little duct tape. Then we can decide where to take him.”

The two men worked quickly, getting the body laid out on the curtain, wrapped up and taped. “Name’s Gareth.” Daryl nodded his head towards him, “He was usin’ Beth fer information on her family. Came out here to kill her, tracked my fuckin’ phone. I’m s’posed to be protectin’ her an’ I led this piece of shit right to her.” He kicked the plastic with his foot. It made him feel only a tiny bit better.

“If all these people are ‘ _ connected _ ’ like I think they are, he would’ve tracked her down no matter what,” Ozzy said knowingly. “They all got their ways. Right now, our problem is decidin’ the best way to get rid of  _ Gareth _ . I know where there’s a coyote den, ‘maybe bout 15 miles into the park. Never get any traffic up there. No path either, an’ the road is almost non-existent. People tend to avoid the coyotes, too.” He rubbed his hand along his beard, nodding along as he explained.

“Feral pigs.”

Both men jumped when they heard Beth. She’d come down the stairs at some point and was walking out of the bathroom. Her hands were scrubbed clean and looked red and painful. She’d changed her shirt and fixed her ponytail. She still had a lifeless look in her eyes as she walked over to the two men.

“I read a few weeks ago that the Smoky Mountains has a problematic feral pig infestation. They attack hikers an’ campers all the time. You know where there’s a group of ‘em?”

Ozzy nodded in confirmation. “Yeah, I know where ta find a group of those mean fuckers. Chased me into my Jeep the other day. Angry fuckin’ bastards.”

“If we take the body to an area where they can find it, the pigs’ll take care of the rest,” Beth said. “Just gotta take him outta the plastic and leave him naked—they usually won't eat through things like that.”

Both were staring at her with shocked looks on their faces. She just shrugged at them. “Farm girl.”

Ozzy laughed at that. “Damn, she’s right, though. We can leave him out there an’ burn the shower curtain an’ the clothes in the incinerator. Keep the evidence as far apart as we can.”

Daryl switched his shocked look to the other man now and almost in the same manner as Beth, Ozzy shrugged and said, “Movie buff.”

After some discussion, they decided it would be better to take Ozzy’s Jeep since it was made for the rough roads they’d have to travel and it had more room than Daryl’s truck. They lined the back end with the tarps that had been in the truck and loaded the body onto them.

Beth stood in the doorway and when Daryl gestured to the Jeep with a light nod, she shook her head. “No, I’m gonna stay here.”

“ _ Nuh-uh _ , hell no. Last time I left you here,  _ this _ happened.” He pointed to the body in the back. “Ain’t no way I’m leavin’ you again. ‘M not even sure I’m gonna let ya go pee alone after this.”

Daryl opened the passenger door and pointed for her to get in. Beth gave an agitated sigh and slid her feet into her shoes. She slammed the door behind her and stomped down the stairs before hopping up into the seat. 

“This ain’t my fault, Daryl.” She turned and glared at him.

“Didn’t say it was, Greene. I’m well aware who’s at fault here. Yer comin’ with us fer my peace of mind.”

Ozzy was heading back to the main cabin and turning onto the mountain road. Beth sighed and settled into the seat, her head turned to look out the window. 

They’d been driving for about 10 minutes when Ozzy slowed down and pointed to the silver Ford that was barely visible from the road. “That’s the car I found. Gonna have to figure out what to do with it.”

Daryl grunted from the backseat. Just one more thing to add to the growing list. 

“We’ll check him for the keys when we get him out,” Ozzy said. “Drive it somewhere it won’t be as visible. Think it’s a rental?” He glanced in the rearview mirror to meet Daryl’s eyes.

“It’s not,” Beth muttered without moving her head. Her breath was fogging up the window she had her forehead pressed against. “That’s his car. He’s probably got the keys on him. One of us should drive it back to the cabin till we can figure out what to do with it. Too conspicuous to have it someplace where just anybody could stumble across it.”

The two men nodded in agreement. The next hour passed in silence as they turned off the main road and navigated a small dirt road that was sometimes no bigger than a deer path. Ozzy stopped the Jeep in the middle of a field, where the grass and vegetation were about waist high. They grabbed work gloves that were stashed in the back and went to work unrolling Gareth from the shower curtain and removing his clothes. Beth had been right: his keys were in his front pocket. They shoved the remaining evidence into a black trash bag and tossed it into the back.

Soon, they were back on the road, hoping that the feral pigs that had caused so many problems would dispose of the evidence they’d left behind. 

* * *

They stopped at Gareth’s car with an agreement that Daryl would drive it back and they would deal with it the next morning. There was a cellphone in the cup holder and a bag in the backseat that he also grabbed. He needed to call Rick and tell him about what had happened today, find out if he had any more surprises coming his way. Maybe see if the sheriff knew anything about this letter that Gareth was so sure Beth had in her possession. 

The adrenaline that had been coursing through him since he regained consciousness on the ground of the woods was wearing off and he was becoming more aware of the pain in his head. He gingerly poked at the cut and winced when a sharp pain followed and his hand came back with blood on it. He probably needed stitches, but he’d have to make do with superglue if Ozzy had any.

He’d been visually trying to gauge if Beth had any injuries and was confident that it was all superficial. He was more concerned about the mental trauma she was surely suffering from. He couldn’t imagine what she had to be thinking, losing her dad and basically all her freedom. And then promptly finding out that the guy she’d been with for so long was just using her. Daryl wished he could bring the fucker back and kill him again for the pain he’d caused her.

Beth met him on the porch, still with that vacant look in her eyes, but the color was starting to come back to her face. Ozzy was nowhere to be seen, but the front door to his cabin was open and the lights were on.

“Is he in there?” Daryl asked. He wanted to call Rick and get back to their cabin, get some food in their bellies and take a shower. He was covered in blood and only a portion of it was his own.

“No, he took the bag to the incinerator. I didn't wanna wait inside on my own.” She gave her shoulders a small shrug and then started to mess with the bracelet on her wrist. He was beginning to realize that’s how she tried to quell her anxiety. 

“Alrigh’ well, ya wanna keep waitin’ out here? Or…” Beth didn’t have to answer because just then, Ozzy was coming back around the house.

“Well, y’all comin’ in or not?” Ozzy asked after he was already in his cabin and realized that they had remained on the porch. “I know ya said ya needed to make a call.”

Daryl nodded his head and guided Beth into the house, disliking the way her spine stiffened when he lightly placed his hand on the small of her back.

Ozzy’s house was a lot like the man… unique. Every inch seemed to be covered in Civil War memorabilia and artifacts.

“Civil War, huh?” Daryl asked. “That was always my brother’s favorite thing to study in school—till he stopped goin’. Merle always said that if he’d been around back then, the south woulda won.” He shook his head at the stupid shit his brother used to say. 

“He sounds like my kinda guy.” Ozzy was walking towards a closed door and motioning for them to come with him. His office was the opposite of his house: there wasn’t any memorabilia at all and it looked like a regular corner office. “I do a little dabbling in day trading as well, so I needed somethin’ a little more professional. Hence the typical stuffy office.”

Beth had followed them into the office, but she was lingering in the doorway. “Hey Ozzy, d’you have a first aid kit or a suture kit? I need to get Daryl’s head lac sewn up.” She looked like she could pass out any minute. Daryl really needed to get her back to the cabin, but he had to talk to Rick first.

“My head what? I don’t need nothin’ sewn up, jus’ gimme some superglue,” Daryl objected. “Let’s just call Rick an’ get goin’.” Ozzy had pulled out the desk chair for him and was motioning for him to sit.

Beth gave him an exasperated look. “Daryl, I’m a nurse, yer not supergluing your head. And I said your head lac—it means head laceration. Or that big nasty cut on yer head.” 

Daryl rolled his eyes at her and nodded. He had admittedly forgotten that she was a nurse. It might be nice to have an injury taken care of the right way for a change. He glanced to Ozzy and asked, “Ya got whatever she’s askin’ for?”

Ozzy nodded. “Actually, there’s a full kit down in your cabin. Keep it there for the renters. You’ll do better with that, an’ that way y’all can get back down there sooner.” Ozzy seemed to be sensing that Daryl wanted Beth back in their own cabin as soon as he could get her there.

Daryl appreciated him for catching on. He was also grateful that they’d cleaned up the pool of blood before they left—it had been just as easy as Ozzy said it would be—and all those paper towels were now in the incinerator with Gareth’s clothes and the shower curtain. He didn’t want to walk into that mess, nor did he want to make Beth deal with it.

“Ya wanna be here when I call Rick?” He asked her. “I gotta tell him what happened. This isn’t somethin’ we can just keep from him,”

Beth was nodding from her seat and sitting up straight so she could be closer to the phone. Daryl hit the speaker button and dialed Rick’s cell phone.

Rick answered quickly, almost like he’d been holding his phone in his hand: “Sheriff Grimes.” 

“Rick, it’s me an’ Beth. We’ve go—”

“I’ve been tryin’ to get ahold of y’all,” Rick interrupted in an almost accusatory tone. “We’ve got a serious problem. I printed out the pictures of everybody that had access to Beth’s apartment an’ took ‘em with me to see Maggie. Beth, honey, I dunno how to tell you this, but Gareth was there that night. He was at the farm. Maggie said she saw him kill Otis—or maybe it was Jimmy, I can’t remember. But please tell me you haven’t made contact with him yet?” Rick’s voice had rapidly changed from accusatory to pleading and remorseful.

He had no idea that he was too late. He wasn’t going to be able to protect her from this, and Daryl knew Rick would blame himself for not knowing about who her boyfriend was and what she’d had to endure.

“Yeah, we figured that out today, Grimes. When he tracked us up to the cabin an’ tried to kill me an’ Beth.”

“He did what?!” Daryl wasn’t sure that he’d ever heard the sheriff truly shocked, but Rick certainly hadn’t been expecting to hear that.

“Gareth hacked into my phone after Beth called him the other day,” Daryl explained. “He found the email with the address of the cabin. He was here waitin’ for us. He followed me into the woods an’ knocked me out, then he went back to the cabin for Beth. He had her tied to a chair an’ he was talkin’ outta his ass when I made it back. I knocked him out with a shovel.”

Daryl was to the part of this conversation that he wasn’t sure he wanted to have with the sheriff. He’d made a choice when he killed the little fucker. He could’ve kept Gareth restrained and had Rick haul ass up to the mountain, but something about him being permanently dealt with made things so much easier in his head.

Beth looked up at him, almost like she knew he was struggling with how to tell Rick. Her mouth ticked up into a small smile and she nodded at him, letting him know that she was behind him and that, if it came down to it, she had his back.

Daryl took a deep breath. “There’s a bit more to the story. Gareth, he’s uh… he’s dead.”

“I’m sorry—he’s  _ what _ now?” Daryl could almost see Rick making that familiar pained expression and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Dead. He was tryin’ ta kill Beth, it’s not like I had a choice,” Daryl defended himself. “I’m pretty sure yer last words to me were, ‘keep her safe, no matter what.’ Well, I kept her safe… for the most part.” Daryl’s head was starting to pound at this point and he really wasn’t feeling good. When was the last time he’d had anything to eat? The pizza that morning? He knew this needed to be a longer conversation with Rick, but he wasn’t going to get into it right now. “Just figured you needed to know that the boyfriend was workin’ an angle this whole time an’ that he tracked us down.”

“Well shit, Daryl,” Rick said. “I’m not sure  _ that’s _ what I was expecting… but that is what I said an’ I know it’s not a choice you’d ever make lightly. We’ll make sure it’s taken care of. What’d you do with the body? Or what  _ are _ you gonna do with it?” Daryl was sure that his friend was doing the forehead rubbing that came with him being frustrated. 

“Ya really wanna know? Beth read an article about the area we’re in havin’ a lotta feral pigs, so we took him to a field an’ left him out there.” Daryl was pretty sure he could hear blood vessels popping in Rick’s head across the phone line. “Look, I know we need to talk about this more, but I need to get my head looked at an’ lucky for me, I have my own nurse here. The guy we’re rentin’ from—his name’s Ozzy—he’s a good guy. I’ll explain more about him later. I just wanted you to know, maybe you can do somethin’ on yer end. But we need to stop these short little calls and get a fuckin’ plan together. So I’m gonna call ya tomorrow an’ tell ya everything. Then we’re gonna figure shit out.” 

“Alright man,” Rick sighed. “Get yer head looked at, get some sleep, and we’ll talk in the mornin’. Wait—just one second, though.” His voice softened with his next question, “Beth, you doin’ okay?”

Daryl looked up and saw that she had tears in her eyes, but she was nodding.

“Yeah, Rick,” she responded weakly. “I’m okay. Daryl protected me… just like you said he would.” She smiled at Daryl and it appeared to be the first genuine smile since Gareth had shown up. “Lemme go take care of him now. We’ll figure it all out tomorrow.”

She reached over and hit the button to end the call. 

They both stood up and walked out of the office to find Ozzy polishing an old musket. “Ozzy, thank you for everything.” Beth had walked up to him and hugged him tightly. “Is it okay if we come up here tomorrow and make another phone call? Maybe get a tour of this amazin’ cabin?” 

Ozzy was beaming at her, “‘Course ya can, darlin’. You go get some food in ya. Make some tea with lots of sugar, it’ll help with the shock. Get that husband of yours sewn up, an’ then you two get some real sleep. No honeymoon activities tonight.”

“Thank you, Ozzy.” Beth gave him a small peck and then turned to Daryl and reached out her hand. “You heard the man,  _ husband _ : fix you up, food, tea, and sleep.” 

Daryl was getting lots of practice at rolling his eyes at this girl He grabbed her hand and led her out to the SUV. He might just have to keep this car, it’d be easier to pack and he wouldn't worry about them breaking down all the time. No, that was a stupid idea. Whoever he worked for probably had a LoJack device on it. Nonetheless, he'd give it a quick once-over when they got back down to the cabin. He glanced over at Beth as she was opening the car door to exit. He reached out to grab her arm and stop her.

“You okay stayin’ there?” He asked tentatively. “After everythin’ that happened? We can move on, if ya want. I’m sure Ozzy wouldn't mind, given the whole mess.” He hadn’t thought to ask before, assuming they would return.

Beth laid her hand on top of his and he hoped she didn’t see him flinch at the contact. It wasn’t his usual flinch, but after she kissed him earlier, he’d been fighting to keep those feelings—and the image—out of his head. But that small touch from her brought it right back. Her gentle smile didn’t help either.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ve got you here to protect me from the living and whatever ghosts the dead might’ve left behind.” 

_ Fuck _ . That's exactly what he is: fucked. He's absolutely  _ fucked _ with this girl.

And he's not even really upset about that fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week we get to find out more about this mysterious letter and Beth makes a HUGE decision about her future!


	13. The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the cabin for a little first aid and hopefully some calm... that of course doesn't last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a new chapter! Next week TWD is finally back and it coincides with an amazing chapter, but that's next week.   
> We finally deal with an issue that's been on everyone's mind for a few chapters and Beth takes care of Daryl... just not like we all want... not yet at least.   
> The mysterious letter... ya it's going to be a big part of this chapter.   
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for all the amazing comments last week. Sorry it took so long for me to respond. Real life kicked me in the face this week.   
> Thanks as always to my beta SquishyCool!

**The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly**

Walking back into the cabin felt surreal. It had only been earlier today when she'd been running through, so excited to see the layout. Now when she walked in, she saw the spot where Gareth tackled her and where Daryl had slit his throat. There wasn't any evidence left, but she could still feel his presence hanging in the place.

She refused to let him steal this place like he'd stolen a year of her life, and like—if she was right—he'd helped steal her father from her as well. No, he didn't get to ruin every corner of her life. Daryl was going to keep her here and keep her safe. He was blaming himself, she could see that every time he looked at her.

Gareth was crazy and he worked for someone even worse, though. So that's who Beth was going to blame. Not herself, not Daryl. Whoever was pulling all these strings… they were to blame.

The first aid kit was exactly where Ozzy had said it would be, in the cabinet above the washing machine. It was more of a whole case, with everything she needed to stitch up Daryl's head inside.

"Daryl, ya better not be tryin' ta duct tape that cut. Come sit down in here and let me look at it." She grabbed the suture kit and a few other things she thought she might need. Daryl reluctantly walked into the bathroom and looked at everything she had in her hands. 

"It's fine, prolly don't even need stitches." He was hovering by the door, looking like he was about to run.

"Sit. Now." She pointed to the edge of the bathtub and tossed everything in her hands on the counter. She gave him one look and knew she would need something that wasn't in the kit. "I need one more thing. I'll be right back."

She ran up the stairs to the loft and rummaged through her duffel bag until she found what she was looking for. She went back down the stairs and into the bathroom, finding Daryl sitting where she had told him to. "I figured ya didn't want me cuttin' your hair to get to your forehead so I needed these."

She flashed the bobby pins she had grabbed and went to work pinning back the hair that usually hung over his eyes. The cut was longer than she had originally thought. It was going to take more stitches than she’d planned. 

"There's lidocaine and there's numbing cream,” she explained. “I have a feeling what you're gonna pick, but can I just say, it'll be easier to stitch you up if ya let me use the lidocaine." She held up the bottle she'd found in the kit, smiling and nodding her head.

Daryl rolled his eyes at her, but sighed and pointed at the bottle. He must be in more pain than he was letting on if he was agreeing to letting her numb his face.

"Just do whatever ya need to,” he grunted. “We both need ta eat an’ get some sleep. Direct orders from the park ranger down the road." He winced as she cleaned the dried blood off his face with a washcloth she'd found on one of the shelves.

She held the cloth just under the cut while she poured peroxide over it, doing her best to keep it out of his eyes. Once she was convinced she had the laceration marginally clean, she unwrapped one of the syringes and stuck it in the bottle, drawing up the correct amount of lidocaine. 

Daryl was eyeing her warily as she approached him with the needle. “Nurse. Remember?”

He nodded his head, but still had an uncertain look to him. She would probably have the same look if someone was coming at her face with a needle.

"This is just gonna pinch for a second, then we'll get it stitched up." She didn't even wait for him to reply before using one hand to steady his head and the other to jab the needle right above the cut. She pushed in the plunger.

"Whatever happened to one, two, three?" He complained as he flinched at the needle prick. 

Beth gave a small laugh and fixed him with an exasperated look. "Figured a big tough guy like you didn't need a countdown. D’you need me to do one for every stitch? ‘Cause it's lookin' like ya need about ten or so, and that's gonna get annoyin' fast."

“Just get on with it, girl. Ain’t got all night.” He glared up at her and it was shocking with his hair pulled back to get the full extent of his gaze—that deep blue that was always hidden under his too long hair. 

Beth scoffed at him and shook her head, “What exactly do you got ta do out here? Count the stars?” She’d finished two stitches and was about to start on the third when a thought came to her. “Hey, ya said that Gareth had a phone in his car, right? What if whoever was trackin’ your phone is still trackin’ his? What if they come lookin’ for him when he never checks in or shows up?”

She barely had time to tie off the stitch she’d just finished when Daryl jumped up and strode out of the room, leaving her standing in the bathroom with her hands still posed to start her next stitch. 

Daryl came back with the phone he’d found in Gareth’s car and his own. He put his phone on the counter and looked around the bathroom. He didn’t see what he was looking for apparently, because he was gone again. He returned a few minutes later with his hunting knife in hand. He smashed the handle down onto the phone over and over. Soon, it was just a pile of plastic and circuits. He pulled the plunger on the sink and started to fill it with water, scooping what was left of his phone into the basin.

He came back to sit down on the edge of the bathtub and glanced up at her. “Sorry, meant to do that as soon as we got back, but I got distracted by yer need to doctor me.”

The phone that had been in Gareth’s car looked cheap, most likely something they bought and prepaid for in order to be as untraceable as possible. Something she and Daryl needed to look into soon. He pushed a button on the side of the phone and the screen came to life. There was a notification for an unread text.

His blue eyes met hers and they shared a silent conversation that shouldn’t be possible after knowing someone for such a short amount of time, but killing a man must speed up the mental connection process. Beth shrugged her shoulders and went back to work on his cut. He’d been running around with the needle and thread dangling from his face and she was about to find some meds to sedate him so he wouldn’t pull that shit again. 

“Guess it can’t hurt anything to look,” she said. She was just concerned with keeping her stitches neat and close, it had been a long time since she’d had to do these herself and she was trying to keep his face from scarring.

Daryl’s fingers, too large for the small buttons, finally got the text open. He closed his eyes and expelled a breath she hadn’t known he’d been holding. The phone was angled up toward her and she read the message that was sent from ‘N’:

- _ let us know when she’s dead. _

Beth had no doubt who the  _ she  _ in question was. Whoever Gareth worked for really was actively trying to kill her. Just because she had the last name Greene.

The blood was slowly draining from her face and she knew she must look bad because Daryl was trying to stand up. She pushed him back down and finished the last three stitches. His eyes never left her, probably worrying about how she would react. 

“Maybe we should answer ‘em,” she said softly. “Tell ‘em yes. Might buy us some more time here until they realize he’s not coming back.” How had this become her life? She was calmly suggesting they text an unknown person that she was dead because they didn’t want to bring more people down on them. 

“That’s what I was thinkin’,” he muttered. “Look at this contact list; D, Mom, N, and S are the only 4 numbers programmed in the phone. No other texts. Sounds like N is the guy wantin’ you gone. So let’s answer him. They’ll either buy it or we’ll be runnin’ outta here soon.” He lifted one shoulder like he was deciding to have vanilla ice cream instead of chocolate.

He typed in the message:

- _ done  _

He laid the phone on the edge of the bathtub next to him and they both stared at it like it was a bomb about to explode. They both jumped when it dinged, the sound echoing off the bathroom walls. 

_ -good work, stay close. more details to come. _

“Huh,” Beth remarked. “Well, either they know we aren’t Gareth or that worked for now. Think we should keep it? See what they’re gonna do next?”

Daryl mentaly weighed that decision. She knew that he was probably having the same feeling that she was. The phone could be a gold mine, but it could also bring hell down upon them. He finally shook his head and, realizing that she’d finally finished his stitches, stood up and walked to the counter. He smashed up the burner phone just like he’d smashed his own. 

“Yeah, yer cleanin’ that—and  _ all this _ —up,” she declared, gesturing toward the mess of broken phones and bloody bandages. “Call it yer copay. I’m gonna grab my shower stuff and find some clothes that aren’t covered in blood. You need ta take a shower and change, too. Why don’t you jump in first? Just don’t get yer stitches wet.”

With that, Beth turned on her heel and ran up the stairs to the loft. She needed to be alone with her thoughts for a few minutes and giving Daryl the chance to clean up first would let her do just that. 

* * *

She’d heard Daryl rummaging around downstairs before the shower turned on. After the few days they’d been together, she knew he wouldn’t be in there long. It was giving her time to think over everything and making her head slightly spin. Something was bugging her.

A lot of things were bugging her, actually: killing Gareth, dumping his body, kissing Daryl… the big one was the letter. Why would her dad leave her a letter that would make people want to kill her? Did they really think she would’ve been carrying it with her all this time? 

The water in the shower shut off. Knowing Daryl, he would be out of the bathroom quickly and she was desperate to no longer look down and see a shirt covered in blood. She wanted to wash Gareth off of her. There wasn’t enough soap or hot water to do that, but at least he wouldn’t literally be on her hands after a shower. She grabbed her stuff and started down the stairs, making it to the bottom just as Daryl was walking out. 

“Throw the clothes you had on in the washing machine,” Beth instructed. “I’ll toss mine in after my shower an’ try to get them at least sorta clean.” She was walking past him, suddenly embarrassed to be close to him.

That’s what happens when you kiss a man moments after he just slit someone’s throat. Not just someone—the man she’d been dating. Is it still considered dating if only one of the people in the relationship thought it was real? 

“Nah, bring yers out. We’re gonna burn ‘em. Don’t need to take anymore stupid chances.” Daryl startled her out of her thoughts and she jumped when she realized they were standing as close as they were. He’d taken the bobby pins out of his hair, but probably hadn’t washed his hair in an attempt to follow her instructions. She would lay out some of the Tegaderm bandages she’d seen in the kit. She should have thought about that when she told him not to get his stitches wet.

She just nodded her head and slipped past him into the bathroom, shutting the door tightly and leaning against it. Setting her clean clothes on the counter, she finally decided to look in the mirror again. It had been a few hours and her face was bruised where Gareth had hit her, but it wasn’t as bad as it felt. It was a little swollen, but that and the bruise would be gone quickly. 

An hour-long hot shower would have been amazing, but she was starting to get hungry and she wanted to get some sleep. She had just finished washing the conditioner out of her hair and was turning off the water to grab her towel when a thought hit her. She would never know why her mind decided to make that connection, but it was a stroke of luck. Her backpack, the one she never looked in and just shoved a few things in the night she left… what if there was something in there that would give her a clue about the letter? Maggie had given her the black leather backpack around the same time her dad had told her to have a bag ready to go.

What had Maggie told her when she’d given it to her? 

_ “Bethy, if you ever have to go, take this with you. It’s got everything you need.” _

She had just assumed that it was more basic necessities. Most likely Maggie being overprotective and thinking she wouldn’t remember to bring everything she needed. What if it was something else, though?

She jumped out of the shower and dried off as quickly as she could. She threw on her clean clothes and dropped her bloody clothes on top of Daryl’s just outside the door. She hurried up the stairs and grabbed the backpack, coming right back down with it. Daryl had been in the kitchen and was watching her with a puzzled look on his face when she walked to the island and sat the bag down on top of it.

“What if I  _ do _ have the letter?” Beth gestured to the backpack. “I’ve got no clue what’s in this thing. Maggie gave it to me an’ I never even opened it till I shoved my phone charger in the night Rick came to my apartment. Lotta good that was since he killed my phone—but not the point. What if I’ve had this letter the  _ whole time _ ?” 

“I think ya need ta eat somethin’,” he grunted. “You just said a whole lot in a very small amount of time.” He pushed the grilled cheese he’d made her across the counter. “Why the hell didn’t ya ever look in there before?”

Beth shrugged. She didn’t have a good reason for why she’d never opened the bag. Her stomach growling saved her from having to answer more. She took a few bites of the sandwich and grabbed the bottle of water he’d sat down next to her. She drained almost half of it before she opened the bag. Sliding the grilled cheese out of the way, she dumped the contents onto the counter. And immediately wished that she hadn’t.

A small box of tampons and a box of condoms had fallen out and slid across the counter, stopping right in front of Daryl.

“Did I mention that my sister’s a pain in the ass?” She was trying to hide her embarrassment the best she could and quickly grabbed both boxes, tossing them onto the floor where no one had to look at them.

“That’s nothin’,” he said. “Merle used to sneak condoms inta my lunch box. Try explainin’ that one to yer 4th grade teacher.” Daryl smirked at the expression that must’ve been on her face. The more she heard about Merle, the more she wondered how he and Daryl could be related.

She began sifting through the items that had been in the bag: a journal, a small photo album, and the blanket that her mama had knitted for her, which Beth had been sure was lost. Not lost after all—just stolen by her sister! She couldn’t even think about looking at the photo album until she was alone, and probably not for a few days. She wasn’t ready for the emotions that would most likely come out of that.

Dammit, Maggie. For someone that was always so closed-off and hesitant to show emotion, she was certainly showing her soft side with all that was in the bag. 

Actually, there wasn’t that much in the bag for as heavy as it was and how full it had seemed. She picked up the blanket and a folded piece of paper fell out of it. Reaching down to pick it up, she recognized the fancy stationary that someone had given Maggie and Glenn for their wedding. Maggie had always laughed and said it was the worst gift that she would never use. But it seemed that she’d found a reason.

Beth rested her elbows on the counter and leaned over to show the small card to Daryl. “Ya think this is the letter they were after?”

Daryl shook his head.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so either,” she muttered. “But ya never know. Maybe whoever told Gareth got their information wrong.” She was putting off opening the card. What if it had just fallen into the blanket when Maggie packed the bag and she was getting herself worked up over nothing? Or maybe it had way too many answers for her.

“I think ya need to open it. Want some privacy?” Daryl was gazing at her with the same look he’d worn when he’d told her that the things Gareth was saying to her weren’t true. It was making her want to pick that kiss back up again.

Nope, that wasn’t happening again. It was adrenaline and shock and whatever the hell else she had been feeling. Nothing more.

“No, stay please,” she replied. “Probably best ta not have secrets.”

He nodded curtly and watched her.

She flipped the top of the card up and found a short note in her sister’s precise handwriting.

_ Bethy, _

_ I was going to write something cryptic, and I was going to use that damn Harry Potter book you love so much. “I open at the close” made no sense, so I figured it would be better to just keep it simple. I told you that if you ever ran, you have to take this bag with you. It’s got everything you need and no, I don’t mean the condoms. The bottom of the bag is false. This was the easiest thing Daddy and I could come up with. Keep everything in there close. You will need it all. I hope you’re just running because we’re worried about the Feds and not because something has happened that we can’t come back from. _ _   
_ _ If it’s a worst case scenario… Please know that we all love you. You are the only one that we would ever trust with everything. _

_ Stay Safe, _ _   
_ _ M. _

Beth had barely finished the note before she was reaching for the bag and trying to rip the fabric bottom out of the bag. She wasn’t getting very far with just her fingernails.

“What in the hell are you doin?” Daryl’s voice stopped her frantic work and she looked up at him with annoyance. 

“The note says the bottom of the bag is false and everything I need is in there. I’m tryin’ to get it open, but it’s sewn in there pretty damn well.” She was getting frustrated. She felt like she was close to actually getting some answers.

Daryl gently took the bag from her and extracted a small knife from his pocket. He quickly cut through the thread and ripped the fabric away. His eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t say anything or take anything out. He simply slid the bag back over to her.

“Is it bad?” She asked tentatively. “Do I wanna look?”

He nodded his head at her, then gestured to the bag.

Beth reached in and her hand wrapped around something very familiar” the gun that T had taught her to shoot with. Well, it probably wasn’t the exact same gun, but it was just like the one she’d used on the farm. She pulled the gun out and set it next to her bag. Next came two full clips. She was glad she hadn’t dumped the bag out again with the gun in there, even if it wasn’t loaded. That patience was gone now. Beth grabbed the bag and shook everything out.

Two bundles of cash. A keyring with five keys on it. And an envelope—a very overstuffed envelope. It landed face down so she couldn’t read it, but she had a sinking feeling that she already knew what was written on the front. Her hands were shaking as she picked it up and turned it over.

It was right there. Her daddy’s handwriting:  _ Doodlebug. _

Beth dropped the envelope like it had burned her. No, she didn’t want to know what was in there. Was this the letter that had nearly gotten her killed? Or was she in for more questions? She needed help with this one and there was only one other person that could help. He was all she had at the moment.

“I dunno if I wanna read it.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard her. He probably had that amazing hunter’s hearing.

Then Daryl did something she wasn’t expecting. He grabbed the letter off of the counter, grabbed her hand with the other, and led her over to the couch. He put the letter on the coffee table and let go of her hand before he went back to the kitchen. Beth sat down with a heavy sigh. How had all of this happened in the last 24 hours? This was one of the reasons she had walked away from the family business. This shouldn’t  _ be _ how a normal person feels. Daryl came back with two glasses and one of the jars of moonshine. He sat down next to her and opened the alcohol, pouring a shot into each of the glasses.

“Yer gonna take a shot, then yer gonna open that letter an’ read it,” he said. “We got lotsa booze no matter if it’s good, bad, or ugly.”

He picked up one of the glasses and handed it to her and grabbed the other for himself. Giving her a half-smile, he titled his glass towards hers and downed the contents. Pulling some sort of strength from him, she did the same, the shine burning all the way down her throat and into her stomach.

Maybe it was the shot, maybe it was Daryl’s presence next to her, but she felt like she could open this damn thing. She took one more steadying breath and grabbed the envelope. She ripped it open.

_ Doodlebug, _

_ You’re probably already mad that you’re getting this letter. I don’t blame you. I know your reasons for not wanting to be part of the business, and I understand them. But I have to ask you to put those aside for me, for Maggie, and for the memories of your mother and brother. I need you to be the person that holds the “keys to the kingdom.” Maggie had the idea to put everything in a bag for you, one that you would only take with you if something happened. The kind of something that wouldn’t allow me to come to you. The kind of something that would bring Sheriff Grimes to the front door of your apartment with no real explanation. _

_ Don’t be scared, Doodlebug. You’ll be just fine. I made sure of it. _

_ Anyone that knew the truth about my life would know that you weren’t part of it, and I hope that’s enough to keep you safe. It might be enough to get you out of town and away from any danger. I know that I put you into this position, and I know that what I’m going to ask of you now will make it worse.  _

_ The Greene Family name needs to continue on. It needs to be you. I’m going to make sure that you have everything you will need. I know you’ll have the support of Rick and a few of my other associates. If you need something, always go to Rick first. If he isn’t able to help, an associate named Dwight should be your next call—his number is on the back of this letter. I don’t think you would’ve ever met him, but you’ll recognize him from the burn scars on the left side of his face.  _

_ Recently, I was made aware of a plot on my life. I’m working hard to stop it, but if you are reading this, I may have failed. If that’s the case, you need to get in contact with Reg Monroe. If for some reason you can’t reach him, a man named Aaron should be your next call. Both of their numbers are on the back of this letter, as well.  _

_ There is a storage unit in Boston and it’s in your name; the address and unit number are on the back. The answer to every question you have is in that unit. You will need all of the keys on the ring. Use the money to get you where you need to go. Stay under the radar. Use prepaid phones. Never stay in one place too long. _

_ Most importantly… Stay. Alive. _

_ I never wanted to drag you into this. Your sister was always happy to be the next in line, but Maggie doesn’t always think before she reacts. This family and this business need someone that will look thoroughly at every option before making a decision. And that someone is you, my girl. I’m sorry for all of this, but I know you’ll do the right thing. _

_ I love you more than you could ever know. _

_ With You Always, _ _   
_ _ Daddy _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The letter! Beth had it the whole time! This was the set up chapter for a huge section of the story. Big things are about to happen!   
> If you voted in the Moonshine Awards don't forget that the winners will be announced tomorrow on [Ultimate Bethyl Ficlist](https://ultimatebethylficlist.com/)


	14. Road to Perdition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth deals with the letter Hershel left her and makes a big decision about her future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my beta SquishyCool! She makes every chapter sparkly and ready to go! Check out her new fic [risk it all](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22767100/chapters/54403414) it's amazing, especially if you enjoy a little Bethyl smut!

**Road to Perdition**

“We’re gonna need more shots.”

Beth’s mind was racing. He wanted her to take over. Her dad wanted her to be the new him. No, that was supposed to be Maggie and it needed to be Maggie. Beth didn’t want this life. The only thing she really wanted was to go back to her normal life; go to work, watch TV on her couch, eat a pint of ice cream in her underwear… Being the head of an organized crime syndicate wasn’t in any of her plans.

She needed to see what the other papers were, but that was going to require more booze.

“Not good then?” Daryl asked. He was already pouring another shot into each of their glasses and slid hers closer when he finished. 

She snorted. That was all the answer she was capable of giving right now.  _ Good.  _ Depends on who you ask. Getting the “keys to the kingdom” might be someone else’s dream, but it wasn’t hers.

“Depends,” she said. “Think I can pull off the mob boss look?” She grabbed the glass and downed the moonshine, then gestured for him to fill the glass again. “I’m supposedly the heir apparent to the Greene Family. Not the daughter that supported his decisions and stayed and learned from him. No, my father had the great idea to ask me to step in if something happened to him.” She shook her head and downed the alcohol that was in front of her again.

Her tolerance had always been low and she was feeling the three shots she’d taken. Tonight seemed like the night to drink until she couldn’t feel anything.

Daryl looked confused. Instead of trying to explain it again, she shoved the top piece of paper towards him and began rifling through the rest. She wanted to see what else had been in the envelope. Probably more things to completely mess with her life. 

There was a resentment building up in Beth that she hated. Her daddy was dead and she was here pushing down feelings of hate because this was the one thing she had asked to be left out of. There was a tiny voice in her head telling her she needed to see everything. That probably meant they were going to be making a trip to Boston at some point. How cliche was that? A storage unit in Boston. One problem at a time, though. The rest of the paperwork needed to be dealt with. 

Deeds. There were three different deeds. The farm, the family townhouse in Atlanta, and the house in Boston—all of them in her name. How long had he been planning this? She’d had the backpack for close to a year now. Maybe longer. She wasn’t sure anymore. So the farm had been hers all this time. Maggie had to know. Why didn’t she fight him on any of this? For at least a year, Beth had been the proud, and completely unaware, owner of three separate homes. Didn’t she need to pay property taxes or something? No, Hershel would have taken care of all of that for her. This was something she was only supposed to learn about if he died.

Beth was sure that in the planning stages, the thought had been if Daddy went down, Maggie would have been right beside him. Glenn, too. They had planned to leave her alone with everything. Who did she have to help her? Rick? This Dwight person? She’d never heard that name and she would remember a man that had burn scars on his face. Reg Monroe—that name was so familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Did all of these people know that she was now supposed to follow in her father’s footsteps? 

“How long ya had that bag?” Daryl’s calm voice stopped the crazy path her thoughts were taking.

She’d just been trying to figure that out herself, but she still couldn’t remember. Had Gareth been in her life then? Yes. She remembered him saying it was an ugly bag and why did it need to be sitting on the chair by the door. So a little over a year. 

“Just over a year. Why?”

He was looking back down at the letter again. He had to have read it a couple of times now. Did he catch something she didn’t?

“This name, Reg Monroe, I remember hearin’ his name on the news. He was some big shot up north, married to a senator or congresswoman—somethin’ like that.” He closed his eyes like he was trying to replay in his mind what he’d heard. Then his eyes sprang open and she knew that whatever the answer to who the man was… it wasn’t going to be good.

“He was killed. I remember it was on the news channel they always kept on in the garage. It was a big story, they kept things goin’ all day. We need to look it up, but I’m sure they said it was some Russian guy that killed him.”

Her face must have perfectly conveyed what she was feeling because he was pushing a glass of moonshine into her hand. Beth quickly downed the shot, barely feeling the burn of the alcohol anymore. 

She sat the glass back down on the table and looked at the jar they’d just opened to see that it was almost gone. No wonder her head was going in circles. That would be tomorrow's hangover. She’d hate herself for it in the morning, but right now she needed the edges of everything to be a little blurry. “Well, guess we can cross his name off the list on the back then. Too bad we didn’t have that nice letter a few nights ago, huh? Use prepaid phones—well, thanks for the advice, Dad. Just a little too late.” She poured the rest of the moonshine equally into their glasses and gestured for him to take the glass. She was holding hers up towards him. “Here’s to my dad. Even from the grave, he’s makin’ my life hell. Oh, and thanks for the houses, Dad! Cheers!” She threw the shot back without waiting for Daryl and then showed him the deeds she had in her hand. “See? I own three houses! You want one?” Maybe that last shot was a bad idea. 

“I’m good,” he muttered. “Just invite me over sometime. How ‘bout we get some more food in ya? And water, lotsa water.” He grabbed the two empty glasses and went to set them in the sink. He came back with two bottles of water and set one in front of her. “Drink.”

Beth wasn’t in the mood to be coddled and she wasn’t ready to give up the euphoric feeling the alcohol was instilling in her. Maybe she should try and kiss him again. He didn’t pull away last time. If Ozzy hadn’t walked in, he would have deepened that kiss. She’d felt it.

No, she needed to figure this whole mob boss thing out. Kissing Daryl would have to wait until she knew what the fuck she was going to do with her life. 

“Yes sir, Mr. Dixon, sir!” She gave him a mock salute and leaned back further into the couch. “Any of those other names familiar to ya? If we cross ‘em all off, maybe nobody needs to know that I’m now… fuck… what would I call myself? The Boss Bitch?” She shrugged. “Yep, I like that. I’m the Boss Bitch now.”

She looked over at Daryl to see him staring down at the letter again. He had a look on his face that she wasn’t exactly sure she liked. He looked almost… guilty.

“You do know another name on there,” she said. “Don’t you?” He nodded his head, still looking down at the letter, his hair covering his eyes. He was chewing his lip again. She’d learned that was one of his nervous habits. What the hell in that letter could be making him nervous? It hadn’t mentioned any Dixon names. “Who do you know?”

He finally met her eyes. She’d been wrong, that look hadn’t been guilt. It was confusion. He cleared his throat. “Dwight, I know Dwight. Known him fer years. Knew him before he had the scars on his face. Yer dad trusting him, like it sounds like he does, ain’t something I would’ve expected.”

So the mysterious Dwight was a friend of Daryl’s? 

The walls started to feel like they were closing in on her. Everyone in this fucked up world was connected. No one was really who they said they were. She couldn’t just sit there anymore and feel everything trying to crush her all at once. 

She needed air, and the porch had those nice big chairs on it and she’d decided that she was going out there. The alcohol impeded her graceful exit; she wasn’t able to jump up and walk out the door like she planned. She almost fell on her face into the table, but she righted herself, grabbed her water and the empty moonshine jar, and walked out the door.

The night was cool, but it was exactly what she needed. The small shock to her system had her head clearing slightly. She was still drunk as hell, but she could breathe again. She stumbled into one of the chairs and collapsed onto it with a sigh. There was a scraping noise as the chair next to her was slid in front of her. Of course he followed her out here. That’s why he was with her, wasn’t it? To make sure that she stayed alive. Didn’t need her to escape being killed by a lying asshole just for her to stumble around in the woods and fall off the mountain.

"HBIC. That's what ya call yerself." Daryl had settled into his chair, his feet resting on the railing. 

"What the hell does that mean?" She knew she'd heard it before, but facts weren't coming to her right now.

"Head Bitch in Charge. HBIC. Has a ring to it." He gave her a small smile and even though she was upset with everyone right now, she couldn't help but return his smile.

"I like that. I'm gonna need a coffee mug." The questions were swirling in her head again. The light-hearted moment was about to be ruined, but she had to know. "Why’re you here, Daryl?"

“Whaddya mean, why am I here? I thought this would be the safest place for us. Didn’t think that through enough. Neither did Rick, I s’pose.” He was shaking his head, probably at the glaring mistake that they’d all made with using Daryl’s phone. But that’s not what she was talking about.

“No. Why are you here? With me? What’s in all of this for you?” Beth’s voice began to rise as the questions spewed out. “You after somethin’ from me or my family, too?”

“Haven’t we already covered this? I owed Rick a favor. Now I’m here ta make sure you stay safe and alive.” Daryl looked exasperated with her, like he shouldn’t have to explain himself again. “Maybe we should have this conversation in the mornin’, when we’re both sober.”

“No, I wanna have it right now. I think I deserve ta know. Seems like everybody in the fuckin’ world is connected to my dad or the people that killed him. You knew my dad. Gareth was workin’ for the people that killed him. You randomly know all about this Reg guy. Oh, and the guy I’m supposed to turn to if Rick isn’t around just happens to be someone you’ve known for years. How do I know you aren’t here to kill me, Daryl?” She’d risen to her feet without really noticing. She needed the high ground. “What do I know about you that should make me think I’m safe here with you? Because right now, I don’t know who the fuck to trust.”

“How d’you know?” Daryl’s voice was raised as well and he stood up, towering over her more than he usually did. It was like losing his temper made him a foot taller. “Because yer still alive. If I wanted you dead, I’ve had all the opportunities in the world to kill ya. And I haven’t. I’ve done my best ta make you comfortable, ta make this whole situation easier. Ya might not know me well, Beth, but one thing you should know by now? I don’t lie.” He’d moved a step closer to her, only leaving about a foot of space between them.

Beth still had the empty moonshine jar in her hand and she threw it onto the wood porch between them, glass shattering and scattering everywhere. “I’ve been lied to my whole fucking life! Every person in my life has lied to me! What makes you any different?”

She had taken a breath and in that one moment, Daryl bent down and wrapped his arm around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder.

"Daryl! What the hell’re you doin’? Put me down!" He walked them back into the house and slammed the front door shut. He set her back down on her feet, not so gently, and put himself between her and the door. 

“What makes me different?” He argued. “The fact that I coulda left yer ass in Nashville, I coulda let that psycho kill ya today. I didn’t do that. I got ya here. Yeah, it’s my fault he found us, but I distinctly remember it was me that slit his throat. So how’m I different? I’ll tell ya how: I swore when I walked away from my brother an’ my old man that I’d never take another life. And today, I didn’t even hesitate to break that promise to myself. For you.”

Beth could feel the fury coming off of him. His hands were balled into fists so tight that she could see his knuckles turning white. His jaw was clenched and he was staring at her with such scorn that it drained the anger from her almost instantly. 

Why _ was _ she questioning him? He’d done nothing but help her the past few days. He’d  _ killed _ a man for her. All she could see was the lies that she’d been told, but Daryl had never lied to her. She might not have known him long, but she knew that one fact was true. Hell, he hadn’t even hesitated to tell her that he knew Dwight. He could have just as easily acted like he didn’t, but he told her the truth. He might be the first person in her life to be completely honest with her. 

At that moment, all the rage left her body and she could feel herself deflating. She knew Daryl could see it as well, because his posture relaxed. His hands weren’t in fists anymore and his expression was still upset, but it had softened.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. With everythin’ going on, I’m just so confused.” Beth sobbed out her apology before her legs gave out and she was sitting on the floor of the entryway, back against the couch and her face buried in her hands. She didn’t even feel him sit down next to her, only his arm coming around her shoulders. He pulled her closer to him and it was almost instinct now for her head to rest on his shoulder.

“Had a shitty day, girl. Amazed it took ya this long ta let it all out.” The hand on her shoulder was rubbing up and down her shoulder.

This was the safest and most comfortable she’d felt since Rick showed up at her apartment. That was something she should tell him after she’d just been such a bitch to him, but all she could do was cry. She wasn’t able to form words to even thank him for being nice when he should be leaving her on the floor alone for everything she’d said to him. 

He must have known she needed some time. Time to process and get herself together again. They sat there in silence, staring at the closed door until the tears finally stopped and she was able to take a deep breath again. She didn’t want to move, though. She was happy to just sit and not have to discuss what had happened, but she owed him an explanation.

“I don’t know why I attacked you. You’re probably the only person I know that hasn’t lied to me. It… it just feels like my entire world has been turned upside down. I thought I was in love with Gareth, and he was just playing me. He was fuckin’ using me.” Beth shuddered, remembering all the times they’d been together. He was just doing a job all those nights he spent with her. She wished she could find a way to erase him from her entire life, but that was one wound that was going to be open for a long time. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t’ve had to kill him. I’m the one that brought him into my life. His death—it shouldn’t be on you. I dunno how you can even look at me right now.”

Daryl gently grabbed her chin and forced her eyes to look up into his. “I can look at you ‘cause you don’t deserve what life’s handed ya the past few days. That fucker’s death, that’s on me. I led him here. I taped him to that chair. I killed him. And I’d do it again. It was him or us… I’m always gonna choose us.”

Us. Yeah, that’s what they were now. Her daddy was gone. Maggie was basically gone. Daryl’s family had all been killed. They were all the other one had. Two strangers thrown together and forced to become each other’s person.

Beth was good with Daryl being hers. He probably would prefer someone that could fight, and hold their liquor, but she would try harder for him. 

“Yer a good man, Daryl Dixon. I’m lucky to have you.” He rolled his eyes, the conversation getting a little too deep for him, probably. “Um, couldn't we have done this on the porch? Did ya really need to throw me over yer shoulder like a caveman an’ drag me back in here?” She smiled up at him so he would know that she wasn’t mad, just trying to lighten the mood. 

“Pfft, yeah we coulda, but somebody decided to smash a glass jar on the porch when she was out there barefoot.” Beth hadn’t even realized that she hadn’t put shoes on when she went outside. She gave him an apologetic look and shrugged one of her shoulders. They had drifted slightly still sitting side by side, but he no longer had his arm around her. “Plus, I figured Ozzy didn’t need ta hear ya screamin’ at me.” 

Beth laughed at that. Even when she was being a real pain in the ass, he’d worried about her getting hurt because of her own temper. Yeah, Daryl was a good man alright. There was no denying that anymore. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want the Park Ranger that somehow knows my dad and also just helped us hide a body ta have to come up here and arrest me for bein’ drunk and disorderly.”

“Damn right, we don’t. I’m not sure I’d know how to explain that one ta Rick.” Daryl pushed himself off the floor and extended his hand to help pull her up. She happily accepted it. “Go grab a spot on the couch an’ I’ll get ya some more water. We’ll clean up yer mess in the mornin’.”

The couch was quickly becoming her favorite spot in the house. She hadn’t tried out her bed in the loft yet, but she would happily stay on this couch for as long as she could. She sat tucked into one of the corners with her legs pulled up so she could rest her chin on her knees. The letter and the deeds were laying on the table. She needed to find something to keep them all safe. Her frustration with her father might still be lingering, but that letter was from him, it was in his handwriting, and she didn’t want to risk losing it. It also had all of those numbers and addresses she was supposedly going to need. Maybe she and Daryl could go down to Ozzy’s tomorrow and see if he had something she could use. It seemed like something he would have in that house. 

Daryl came back with a bottle of water for each of them. She had one outside still, but she was going to avoid the aftermath of her temper tantrum for as long as she could. “I’ll clean up the glass in the mornin’. I dunno why I did that. Guess like you said, I just needed to get it out.”

She glanced over at him and could see the shadows under his eyes and how tired he looked. Instead of letting him go to sleep like he’d suggested, she’d dragged him into her crazy. Then she’d accused him of… well, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was accusing him of, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t what she should’ve been doing. 

“We both need ta sleep,” she said. “I’d tell ya ta take some pain meds for the cut on yer head, but mixing alcohol and pills is a bad idea. Tomorrow we can start to figure out what to do.” 

Daryl nodded his head in agreement and finished his bottle in two swallows. He got up and made sure the front door was locked, as well as all of the windows. He went up the stairs to check the windows up there too, she assumed. When he came back down, he grabbed his crossbow and leaned it against one of the nightstands next to his bed. He laid his hunting knife on the same table. He went back to the kitchen and returned with the Beretta in his hand and one of the clips.

“Ya know how to use this?” She nodded slowly. “Good, keep the safety on, but make sure it’s loaded an’ you got one in the chamber. Keep it on your nightstand, where you can reach it.” He handed the gun and clip to her and she checked the safety, slammed the clip in, and chambered a bullet. She wasn’t sure, but he almost looked impressed with her ability to handle the gun.

“My Daddy made sure that all of us were able to handle a gun. He wanted us to be able to defend ourselves, but he also taught us how to respect the weapon. We were always told that we should never use it unless we had no other choice. T-Dog taught me once I started high school.” 

Daryl was nodding his head again and walking back into the kitchen. He grabbed another bottle of water and headed towards the nook his bed was in.

Taking the hint, Beth made her way up the stairs, but stopped halfway up. “Tonight, after you brought me back in the house… It’s the safest I’ve felt since everything happened. Thank you for that, Daryl. Goodnight.”

She wasn’t going to look back at him. She didn’t want to see if what she’d said made him uncomfortable or if that look he had when he was comforting her was back. If that look was on his face, she would have lost her resolve and gone back down the stairs and kissed him again. It was better to just go to bed. 

She turned on the small lamp on the nightstand and dug out the pajamas from her duffel bag. Daryl had turned off the downstairs lights as soon as he knew she was upstairs and had a light on up there. At some point, she was going to have to unpack these new feelings that he was stirring up in her.

Maybe she should be ashamed of feeling that way, considering she’d basically just broken up with her boyfriend a few hours ago. The breakup might have been finding out he was working to gather information on her and that she had meant nothing to him, but it was a breakup nonetheless. It was still new. Up until then, she’d thought he was the man that she’d been with for a year.

That was for another day, though.

* * *

Beth jerked awake. The dream she’d had was still fresh in her mind. What in the hell had that been? She couldn’t even remember falling asleep. She’d sat down on her bed and the next thing she knew, she was experiencing a dream that could only be described as… strange. Something she didn’t want to relive. Even though part of her was curious to see if the dream was just another way her body was releasing stress or if there was a dark part of her that wanted to experience what she had in the dream.

The small clock on the stand said that it was 4:18 AM. Going back to sleep wasn’t an option, that dream could sneak back up on her if she did. So she carefully crept down the stairs and looked into the other bedroom. Daryl was still sleeping soundly. She tiptoed into the kitchen, planning to get another bottle of water and maybe have a few of the cookies they’d bought. The journal that had been in her backpack caught her eye, laying there on the counter next to the bundles of cash.

Damn, she’d forgotten about the money that had been in the bag. How much was it? Each bundle had a wrapper around it that said $10,000. She’d been sitting on $20,000 for over a year and carting it all over the south the past few days. It would come in handy now, especially with them needing to be under the radar. Cash meant no paper trail. That must have been why Daddy and Maggie thought she should have it.

She stacked the two bundles in front of her and grabbed the journal. She’d always loved having a new journal, it was like starting over, a blank slate almost. Daryl had left the light over the stove on, probably for her. She was certain that Daryl didn’t need a light to move around anywhere he’d spent more than 20 minutes. The light was just enough. There was a pen on the counter, it hadn’t been there earlier, must have fallen out of the bag as well.

Something had changed in her mind during the night. If she was being honest, something had changed when she finally broke down. Her mind had become clear on what she wanted for her life. Her daddy’s letter and something Daryl said had been chasing each other around in her brain. She wasn’t going to be afraid of the world that her father and all of the Greene’s before him had created. She was going to embrace it.

If her Daddy wanted her to do this, then she was going to do it. She was just going to do it her way.

First, she was going to take down every single person that had anything to do with the destruction of her and Daryl’s families. As the ideas formed in her head, the words flowed onto the pages.

This was who she was going to be now: Beth Greene, Head Bitch In Charge. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments are always welcome!!! They actually help get the writing process going!   
> Beth's dream... if enough people are interested I will post it, but I have to warn you... it's a little... graphic... 
> 
> Amazingly, this little mob/love story of mine got 2nd Place in the Moonshine Awards for best AU (WIP) and 3rd Place for Best Multichapter (WIP)! 
> 
> Check out all the winners - [Moonshine Awards 2019](https://ultimatebethylficlist.com/moonshine-awards/)


	15. Bonnie and Clyde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth has plans. Daryl has concerns.

**Bonnie and Clyde**

Coffee. That’s what brought Daryl out of the best sleep he’d had in months. He silently prayed Beth had made it and that he wasn’t about to find a certain park ranger in the kitchen.

He liked Ozzy, but he’d much rather see Beth first thing in the morning. That kiss was still lingering with him. They’d both done a really good job of avoiding any mention of it. Disposing of a body, finding the letter her dad had left her, and her anger finally exploding had been good distractions so far. 

He sat up in bed and caught a glimpse of blonde hair sitting at the counter. It looked like she had covered every inch of the counter in post-it notes and pieces of paper. How long had she been awake? He reached for his phone to check the time, but remembered that he’d smashed it into hundreds of pieces last night. There was a clock on the nightstand. It was almost nine in the morning. He hadn’t slept this late in years. After yesterday, he must have needed it. No wonder she was awake. He would have to see what she was up to after the bathroom because his bladder was about to burst.

He grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a black shirt on his way. Once his teeth were brushed and he no longer had to pee like a racehorse, he made his way to the kitchen. Beth didn’t even seem to notice he was in the room with her. She was focused on whatever she was writing in that journal she’d found in the bag last night. 

“Mornin’. What the hell’re ya doin?”

She jumped, almost coming off the stool she was sitting on, looking at him with those wide blue eyes that seemed a little… crazy at the moment. She glanced at the mess of paper, pens, sharpies, and an empty bag of cookies, then gave him a shy smile.

“Um, I think ya better have some coffee before I get into that. The new pot should be done brewin’, I think.” She glanced over to the counter and the coffee pot that was situated beneath the window. 

The new pot? “How long you been up? And how much coffee have ya had? Yer a little… jittery.” She’d left a mug out for him and he poured a cup for himself. That first sip was exactly what he needed to fully clear the sleep from his head. Probably what he was going to need. He had a feeling that whatever she was up to wasn’t going to follow the  _ keep Beth safe and out of sight plan.  _

“Been up since four, I was worried I’d wake you up—but you’ve been snorin’ away over there. Did’ja know you talk in yer sleep?” She was practically vibrating and he wasn’t sure if it was caffeine or the excitement, but he was starting to worry about how much her heart could take. 

“Don’t talk in my sleep, you was probably hearin’ things from drinkin’ too much coffee. Have ya eaten? I think ya need more than caffeine in yer system.” He could make eggs. That was about it. He saw a toaster, so he could make her some toast as well. Carbs and protein to help even her out. 

“Had some cookies around six, I think. Are ya makin’ us breakfast? I can help, or I can tell ya what I’ve been doin’. It’s up to you.” This wasn’t the same girl that had walked up the stairs last night. The last he’d seen her, she had just finished crying her eyes out. Then she had to go and say all that shit about him making her feel safe. This was probably what Beth was like most of the time. What she would be like if he’d met her in a world where both of their families hadn’t been murdered and they weren’t on the run. That world probably wouldn’t have had him killing a man not five feet away from where she was sitting. 

“I’ve got breakfast, why don’t you start tellin’ me what you’ve got goin’ on over there.” He found the eggs in the fridge behind the beer. Opening a few cabinets, he found a frying pan and a bowl. He was pulling eggs out of the carton when he heard her take a deep breath like she had to prepare herself to tell him what she’d been up to. 

“We’re gonna hunt down everyone involved in the killings. And then we’re gonna take back what’s rightfully ours.”

The egg that he’d just taken out fell from his hand and broke on the tile. She’d said it with such determination and passion that the only thing he could do was stare at her.

“Oh my gosh, Daryl! Are you okay? Hang on, I’ll get some paper towels.” She was off the stool and across the kitchen in one bound and he was still standing there with his hand in the air, staring at her. 

Beth was cleaning up the egg mess when he finally remembered how to talk. He waited until she stood back up, then pointed at the stool, silently telling her to sit down.

“We’re going to do  _ what? _ ” He was sure he’d heard her wrong and she was going to say something that wasn’t as insane as a murder revenge plot. 

She sat back down on the stool and locked her eyes on his and, with even more conviction, started again. “You and me, we’re gonna find every single person involved with the hits on my family and yours. We’re gonna find ‘em and we’re gonna kill ‘em. Every. Single. One. Then you’re gonna take over yer family's business and run it the way you want to. I’m gonna do the same. Our dads had an agreement and we can, too. Like you said last night. We’re gonna choose us.”

Yep, he’d heard her right the first time. What the hell had happened after he went to sleep? She’d been against this from the moment she read that letter. Hell, she’d been against it since the moment she’d found out who her daddy really was. She’d done exactly what Daryl did and walked away. Now she was planning a major revenge plot that ended with the two of them slipping into their respective fathers’ roles. 

“That ain’t happenin’. Ya can’t pull all this off from the mountains of Tennessee or wherever we go next. I don’t wanna take over. _ You  _ don’t wanna take over, or kill whoever was responsible. Trust me, ya don’t want a life on yer conscious or blood on yer hands.” He was hoping that this was just a lack of sleep, too much coffee, and a bad reaction to everything that had happened. 

Eggs, he had been making them food before she went full Vito Corleone on him. Getting food in her might bring her back to normal. If it didn’t, he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep the peace while telling her there was no way in hell they were starting shit. For a few minutes, the only sound in the kitchen was the crack of the eggs against the side of the bowl.

“Will you just listen to a few things I’ve come up with? I think we need ta do a few of ‘em, even if you won’t help me.” She sounded defeated.

That was on him. She’d been so excited this morning and now she was just begging him to listen to her. After everything, he could at least do that. He nodded to her while he dumped the eggs into the frying pan and stuck two slices of bread in the toaster. 

“Okay, well we know they were tracking your phone and they hacked your email. We answered the text on Gareth’s phone last night, but I don’t think that’s gonna be enough for them.” She stopped long enough to finish off the cup of coffee that was in front of her, eyes flashing towards the pot. Probably trying to decide if she should have another cup. He decided for her and walked over with the pot, pouring her a full cup. “I think we need to send an email to Rick, from your account. We should call him first to let him in on my plan.”

He slid the eggs on two separate plates, and then added a piece of toast to both of them. Instead of disturbing all of her work on the counter, he carried them to the coffee table. “C’mon, eat. Grab some silverware and whatever ya want on yer toast. Then I wanna hear this email plan.” 

Beth joined him on the couch a few minutes later, sliding a fork and knife towards him and setting a stick of butter and a jar of grape jelly between them. She gave him a grateful smile before she dug into her food. The appreciative moan she gave after her first bite of eggs had him deciding that if he was going to get that smile and that sound out of her, he would make her breakfast every morning.

“Daryl, these are the best eggs I’ve ever had. What’d you put in ‘em?”

He was trying not to smile at her, but she was definitely making his morning even better. “My mom’s trick. Family secret. Can’t tell ya unless yer last name’s Dixon.”

“Oh, did you forget? We’re married, Daryl. Isn’t that the line we’ve been using?” Her mischievous smile had him barking out a laugh. 

“Until I see the paperwork, you’re just gonna have to keep wonderin’. Alright now, tell me why I need to send an email to Rick.” He wasn’t going to let her embark on a revenge tour, but she might have something good in mind.

“Well, we sent the text that Gareth killed me. That’s gonna work for maybe a day or two. We need them to think you moved on. I think you should send an email to Rick tellin’ him that yer goin’ back to Georgia. That yer stayin’ at a hotel on the outskirts of town. Maybe that one that Carol Peletier owns. Rick could talk her into helpin’ us. We mention that yer comin’ back because of what happened to Merle. These people probably know that you wouldn’t care about yer dad. If they’re plannin’ to come after you too, then maybe they’ll show up at the hotel. Rick or Shane, or one of the other cops could be on a stakeout. This could maybe help us get more information on who we’re… or  _ I’m _ dealin’ with.” She turned to stare at him, hope written on her face.

Her plan was good. It was really good, he thought. It might actually work. They would have to talk to Rick and let him know what was happening. He also caught the subtle reference to her plan to take out everyone. He was going to have to mention this to Rick when he talked to him. There was no way he was letting Beth Greene go off on some murder spree where she would most likely get herself killed in the process. 

Taking a bite of his eggs before he answered her gave him time to get his words right in his head. “It’s a good plan. It’s a really good plan, actually. Maybe we should have had you runnin’ this whole show instead of me an’ Rick.”

She really should have been in charge. He and Rick had been two steps behind throughout this whole mess. But Beth was always thinking five moves ahead.

The massive grin that took over her face made him want to hear more of her plans, no matter how crazy, just so he could tell her those were good, as well. Even if they were going to get them killed. “Let’s go down to the main cabin after we eat an’ see if Ozzy’s there,” he said. “I’ll call Rick and send that email. We’ve gotta figure somethin’ out with Fuckface’s car. I gave it a quick once-over last night to see if there was some sort of tracking, but I couldn’t find any. We need it away from here. Maybe we can find one of those box stores or a grocery store close by where we can leave it.”

They finished their food in silence, Beth occasionally glancing over at him when she didn’t think he was paying attention. He was trying to figure out what she was trying to tell him or ask him, and was about to ask her when she cleared her throat and turned on the couch so she was facing him. 

“I think we need to leave. Not right away. Let’s see if this works and if we’ve thrown them off this place. We need to go forward with clear heads. With a plan. I know ya had a good plan when this started, but things got complicated. Fer both of us. I think Ozzy will help us stay under the radar while we’re here. If we can stay here a week, maybe two, then we can have a plan, a good idea on what to do. We also need to have an escape plan. What to do if somebody shows up again. Make sure we have food and water in the truck.” Beth had to stop and catch her breath. He could tell she had a lot more to tell him and so far, he was agreeing with all of it. 

“Probably be a good idea ta move the truck behind the house,” he said. “Leavin’ it sittin’ out there like that is just beggin’ fer somebody to show up.” He’d thought about that last night, but had been too tired and his head was hurting, so he didn’t do anything about it. 

“I was gonna suggest that, too. I also think we need ta go to Boston. I know you don’t wanna hear about my other plans, but I know we’ve got safe houses up there. I wanna know what’s in the storage unit. My daddy wanted me to go there. I’m not sure I’m ready to call yer friend Dwight, or that Aaron guy. I wanna know what he was hidin’ in there.” That’s what she’d been building towards.

He wasn’t opposed to the idea, but he agreed that they needed to have a plan. A good plan. 

“We’ve got that cash from the bag. Twenty grand,” she went on. “That’s enough to get us to Boston without leavin’ any sort of paper trail. Once we get there, we can protect ourselves better. After that, we decide what and where we go next. Together or not.” Beth’s eyes were downcast when she talked about them not continuing on together.

Daryl had no plans of leaving her, but he wasn’t going to be the Clyde to her Bonnie when she went on a killing spree. Or, more likely, tried to go on a spree and ended up dead herself.

“Let’s take a few days and get somethin’ figured out. Boston seems like the best place to go. Safe houses an’ storage units.” Daryl would go with her wherever she led him at this point. He was alaready stupid for this girl. Barely knew her and yet here he was, willing to follow her to the gates of hell if she wanted. He was afraid to think too hard on her other plans because he would probably find himself staring down the barrel of a gun sooner or later.

“I wanna see what we can find on Reg Monroe when we’re at Ozzy’s, see if there’s any way he and my dad could be connected. There has to be a reason that my dad would tell me to go to him. I need to know what that is since neither one of them are alive to fill me in anymore. Maybe there’s somethin’ that would stand out.” She was standing up and heading to the kitchen with their plates, rinsing them and the bowl that he’d mixed the eggs in. “I’m gonna go get changed and then we can go down there, if yer ready.” 

“Sounds good, you do that an’ I’ll load the dishwasher. Can’t let our little honeymoon suite get dirty.” Her tinkling laugh echoed through the cabin as she made her way up the stairs.

Yep, he was so fucked… might as well just start calling himself Clyde now.

* * *

Ozzy was more than happy to have the company. Daryl was starting to wonder if he sat around all day playing with his memorabilia. Beth had her journal open in front of her, already typing away on the computer, trying to find information on Reg. She was also planning to see if there was a store close where they could leave Gareth’s car.

Daryl grabbed the phone and dialed Rick’s phone number. It was Saturday so he shouldn’t be at the station, unless this whole mess was keeping everyone working around the clock. 

“Grimes,” The sheriff’s voice drawled across the line. 

“It’s Daryl, ya got a few minutes? Got somethin’ ta run by ya.”

Beth was trying to catch his attention. He walked around behind her so he could see what she was pointing to on the computer screen. There was a Walmart about forty-five minutes away. Might be as good a place to dump the car as any. He nodded to her and she wrote down the address before she started on her search of Reg Monroe’s name.

“Not if yer plannin’ ta tell me ya killed somebody else,” Rick said.

Okay, Daryl probably had that one coming. 

“Nah, but it’s still early,” he quipped. “Beth had an idea. Just hear me out on this one, alrigh’? We know that Gareth found out where we were ‘cause they got into my email. Last night, we went through his burner phone and found a text askin’ if he’d killed Beth. We answered that it was done and they told him to wait for further instructions. I broke that phone—and mine.”

He’d been around Beth for too long. He was talking more than he ever had. Girl was a bad influence on him. 

“We wanna send another email,” he went on. “To you. Tellin’ ya that I need ta come back. Might mention somethin’ about messin’ up because of what happened ta Merle. I’m gonna say I’m stayin’ at Carol’s motel. If these people are wantin’ ta finish all of us off, then they might show up there lookin’ fer me. Maybe somebody could be sittin’ on the place and watchin’ for whoever shows up. Bring Carol in, have her let ya know if there’s somebody sniffin’ around that don’t belong. Gotta get us some time ta get things figured out and get people off our trail up here.”

Rick hadn’t said a word since he’d started. Daryl could never tell with him. You had to look Rick in the eyes to know what he was thinking most of the time. 

“Beth came up with that? Maggie would be proud. Might have to tell her when I see her later today. Send the email, but I can’t have you sending it to me. If they’re really involved, they’ll know I’m a cop. Send it to Carol. I’ll loop her in. I’m takin’ somethin’ to Atlanta right now, so I’ll stop by and let her know what’s goin’ on. Gimme twenty minutes before ya send anything.”

They should have thought about the cop angle. It was time they all started to think like the people that were already a few steps ahead of them. Beth was already there, Daryl and Rick just needed to catch up. 

“I’ll probably have more time ta sit on places soon,” Rick continued. “This just keeps gettin’ bigger and bigger. I’m surprised the FBI hasn’t stepped in yet. They’ve started ta make some calls, we’ve already got two watchin’ the safe house, so some of the big guns should be showin’ up before too long.” He sounded like he was trying to convey more than just the message that he wasn’t going to be investigating Hershel’s much longer.

“Might make yer life easier. I’ll keep ya posted on what’s goin’ on. Hey, did you ever know of Hershel and somebody named Reg Monroe havin’ a connection?” There was no harm in asking someone that had watched Hershel’s back for years. If anyone outside of the Greene family would know, it would be Rick. 

“Know of him. He was married to a congresswoman. She’s gone hard against organized crime since she was elected. No idea if he ever crossed paths with Hershel. Somethin’ I should know?”

Daryl didn't think Beth would care if he mentioned the letter Hershel had left her, but something was telling him that it should come from her. 

“Just somethin’ Beth thought she heard at some point. Tryin’ to come up with any information we can for ya.” Her eyes were questioning him about what he was talking about. He just shook his head at her. He’d explain everything to her later. 

“How’s she doin’ with everything? Part of me thinks I should just come an’ get her. Stick her in protective custody.”

The thought of Rick coming to take Beth away brought out something in Daryl that he didn’t want to define. No way, he’d told her last night, they were in this together now. If he had to keep her hidden from Rick, that’s just how it would have to be.

“Makin’ plans. Doin’ our jobs better than us.” Daryl glanced over at Beth who was reading articles on Monroe. “I think if ya tried to do that, you’d have a fight on yer hands. Like I said… makin’ plans.”

“I don’t like the way that sounds. Just stay outta sight and check in when ya can. I’m almost to Carol's. I'll stop in and tell her ta expect an email from you. Have her set up a room an’ all that. I’ll get some surveillance on her place. Tell Beth… tell her, it’s a good idea she had. She might be the one to get us a lead in all this. Tell her hi for me.”

“Sure thing.”

With that, Rick disconnected the call. 

“Rick says hi.” Her little smile did something to his heart. “He also said it was a good plan. Maggie’d be proud.” That earned him an eye-roll.

There was something different in her eyes. Something that made him think that maybe all of her plans were something he should think about. He didn’t want that life anymore, but he couldn’t deny that he’d been good at it. Most of the time, things wouldn’t have been taken care of if he hadn’t been around. Merle and Will had been high, drunk, or some strange kind of combination of both nearly every waking moment.

“Ya find anything on Monroe?”

“Nothin’ that really helps. Architect, married to Deanna, two kids. He was murdered. They never caught the person that did it. The police think it was part of a Russian organized crime syndicate. Retaliation for his wife’s bills and laws.” Beth exited out of the screen she had been looking at and turned to him. “Nothin’ that connects him ta my dad, though.”

He was starting to think that her idea about going to Boston was the best idea. She wasn’t going to let any of this go, and maybe she would get answers there. It would give him time to decide if he was ready to jump back into that life. He’d been raised in it. He’d bled for it, killed for it, and lost his brother to it. Maybe he was stupid for thinking he could ever be completely done with it. Hell, he was sitting here with Beth Greene—even when he wasn’t trying, the universe made sure there was a part of the mob life surrounding him at all times.

He  _ could  _ run the Dixon family. He would be able to build it up with the people he chose, he would have the power to stop the drugs and all the other things that made his stomach turn. It would help her. And right now, that’s all he wanted to do.

Daryl hated to admit it to himself, but Beth Greene… well, she already had him wrapped around her little finger.


	16. A Most Violent Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth does a little reflecting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a short chapter. It's probably the shortest chapter that I will ever put out, but I needed to get a little of Beth's perspective before we start in on this new fun. Thanks as always to my beta SquishyCool.

**A Most Violent Year**

She’d driven Gareth’s car plenty of times. Usually when they’d gone out and he drank too much. This would definitely be the last time she had to drive it, probably the last time  _ anyone _ would drive it.

Ozzy and Daryl had cleaned out the car. Everything had gone into the incinerator, along with the clothes that they’d bagged up after their showers last night. Now she was following Daryl’s truck down the mountain to leave the car in a parking lot. That had been a fight. Daryl was serious about not letting her out of his sight again. They needed to dump the car and Ozzy couldn’t go, so Daryl really had no choice. He’d made his dislike of the situation very clear. The ride back up to the cabin was probably going to be quiet. That was fine with her, quiet would be good right now. She was still trying to figure out how she’d missed such a red flag in her world.

Gareth. How had she been so wrong about him? Beth had managed to keep thoughts of him at bay when she was making plans last night, but driving his car was bringing all her memories back. It was also making her question every other person in her life. 

Amy had introduced them. She’d been pushing for weeks to set Beth up with a family friend. She just  _ knew  _ they would be perfect for each other. If Beth really thought about it, she probably agreed to meet him just to get Amy to stop bugging her about it. Trying to get their schedules to cooperate turned out to be harder than they thought and it ended up being on Amy’s birthday that she finally met him. They were meeting at a bar downtown, one that had a private back room that Amy’s brother-in-law was happy to rent out. She’d only met Amy’s sister, Andrea, and her husband, Phillip, a few times, but she always got the feeling that they were judging her. She barely spoke to anyone when she was in large crowds—it was her way of protecting herself. If she could stay in the background and just observe, well then that kept people at bay and kept her from having to answer questions. Amy had zeroed in on her the moment she walked into the room, and had come rushing over, pulling someone along with her. He was hot. She would still admit that. Her first reaction had been to thank God that he was good-looking. Shallow and very unlike her, but that’s how it went. The brown hair that fell over his forehead and almost covered his right eye was endearing to her and she still couldn’t say why, but at that moment she wanted to push it back so she could see his hazel eyes better. They had spent the next few hours talking. He was easy to talk to, she let her guard down and was more than happy to laugh and, in her own awkward way, flirt with him. Andrea and Phillip had come over at one point and having Gareth next to her made her interaction with them easier. She actually enjoyed talking to Andrea and for once, her husband’s lingering gaze didn’t make Beth’s skin crawl. At the end of the night, she and Gareth had exchanged numbers. Beth wasn’t sure she’d hear from him, but the next morning she received a text from him asking if he could take her to dinner the next weekend. Seeing his text gave her butterflies and brought a little smile to her face. She hadn’t felt like a woman in her 20’s since she’d tried to take her life that night. He was making her feel something again. Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed meeting him off as long as she had.

Beth had been so lost in her memories of that time that she almost missed Daryl taking the turn off and heading into town. This wasn’t the time to get lost in her head. Damn, she was going to end up driving off the side of the mountain if she didn’t pay attention.

She needed to have her head in the game from here on out. There was more at stake than she’d ever really thought about. This wasn’t just about her anymore, this was Maggie and Glenn, T, and Rick. And now… Daryl. Daryl Dixon had somehow become this force in her life and someone she wanted to stand beside and protect at the same time.

She had no idea what to even call what she was feeling when it came to him. Loyalty… gratitude… friendship… attraction… fuck, it was all of those plus something else she couldn’t quite name. Early this morning, when she’d been making all of her plans, the only constant in all of them was Daryl and her need for him to be her partner. If he wasn’t going to be on board with this, if he was going to walk away once Rick or whoever deemed it safe, then all of those plans she made were just that: plans. And nothing more.

Maybe it was some sort of weird loyalty she now felt for him. What he’d said to her last night, after she’d accused him of not being honest with her. He’d promised himself that he would never take another life and then he didn’t even think twice about killing Gareth when he saw she was in trouble. In that moment, she’d realized that no matter what happened, she would always be able to count on him. Shouldn't she be able to be that person for him as well? If he would let her. Maybe the drive back wouldn’t be so quiet if she could tell him all of that without sounding like some stupid girl with a crush. If she could sound like someone he could count on, maybe he would be willing to listen to her and all of her ideas. 

They were driving through town now. Ozzy had given them directions to get into town and how to get to Walmart. The plan was to leave the car in the parking lot, but Beth had worried about leaving her fingerprints in the car. Both Daryl and Ozzy had convinced her that it was okay. Traces of her  _ should _ be in the car. It would be more suspicious if there  _ wasn’t _ any evidence of her presence in the car. That was also the reason she convinced Daryl that she should be the one to drive it to town. He’d stopped arguing at that point, but he wasn’t exactly happy. It made her wonder if Daryl was ever actually happy. She’d seen him with his guard down a few times, but never really happy.

Maybe that should be her new plan. Pay him back by trying to do something to make him smile. It wouldn’t repay the debt she really owed him, but it might be a decent start. 

The parking lot was crowded, though that shouldn't be a shock since it was a Saturday afternoon at the start of summer. Beth had suggested that they stop in and buy some prepaid phones and a case of water and some food that they could keep in the truck. Daryl had stopped that idea before it could get any further. He didn’t want them to be on any cameras. They were tempting fate enough at the moment, and having no idea who they were dealing with and what reach they had meant that after this little trip, they were staying on the mountain until they left for Boston. The idea had been for Beth to park the car towards the back of the lot and then walk towards the front door. Daryl would be driving around the lot and he’d pick her up in front of the store.

She barely made it ten feet from the car when the truck pulled up next to her. 

“Yer supposed to get me at front of the store, remember?” She shot him a smile through his open window and laughed when he rolled his eyes and jerked his head towards the passenger door. 

“Just get in the truck, Greene. Ain’t got all day an’ I’m hungry. That McDonald’s we passed is callin’ our names.” 

Maybe this  _ was _ Daryl happy. He grunted less than when she first met him, and he did seem to be more receptive towards her. She would probably push it at some point and he would get all surly on her again, but for right now, he seemed to be in a good mood. And well, McDonald’s did sound pretty good right now.

Beth jumped in the truck and quickly bucked her seat belt. She was about to start in with her twenty questions again, but her brain was telling her it wasn’t the best time. She wanted at least one answer from him, though. “Why’d you pick McDonald’s over Taco Bell? I saw both when we drove through town.”

He gave her a side-eye glare that reminded her that he might also think she was crazy after this morning. But then he gave her a small half-smile and turned on to the main road. “Only got one bathroom in that little cabin.”

Beth couldn’t hold in her laughter anymore at that point. Okay, so Daryl Dixon  _ could  _ make jokes. That was good to know. The ride up the mountain wasn’t seeming so bad right now.

Once they had food and were able to go, they started back up the way they’d just came, back to the small comforts of the cabin.

“I was thinkin’ we could have spaghetti for dinner,” she said. “I also went through Ozzy’s movie collection yesterday before—well, ya know,  _ before _ . Saw he had  _ Tombstone.  _ Maybe we could try an’ have a normal night; spaghetti, movie, beer… ya know. If you wanna.” Now she just felt stupid. They’d been doing nothing but moving from one place to another and then dealing with psycho boyfriends and dead bodies. Maybe it would be nice to have a night where no one was drunk, crying, or fearing for their life.

“Damn girl, just fed ya an’ yer already plannin’ dinner?” She didn’t miss the actual smile that flashed across his face. “That does sound like a nice change a pace, though. I’m in if yer cookin’ the food. I’ve already exhausted all my specialties.” 

Beth had lots of plans still rolling through her head and she desperately wanted to share them with Daryl, but maybe this was what they needed for now. A night to just hang out. Watch a movie and not think about what was happening in the world outside of the mountain. She had time to tell him what she’d come up with, she had the time to lay out her plans, and maybe she could find a way to convince him to go along with them…  _ with her _ .

Her life had been two separate worlds up to this point:  _ before _ she found out about what her dad really did and  _ after _ . Now she was thinking that she would have to add a few more parts:  _ after _ her daddy’s death, and  _ before and after _ Daryl Dixon. She was having a hard time admitting it to herself and she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to admit it to him, but  _ after _ Daryl Dixon was looking so much better than  _ before _ . After so many people had let her down and lied to her all her life, it was refreshing to have someone that she felt she could absolutely trust. Someone that was willing to sacrifice something so important to themselves to protect her.

Daryl hadn’t just broken a promise to himself, he’d willingly put his life on the line for her. She wasn’t sure about much these days, but she knew for certain that at this moment, if she had to, she would happily do the same for him. Her big plan of telling him that she wanted to make sure that he knew just how important he was to her had gone to hell. Now she just wanted to give them one night of normalcy. Maybe see if she could coax a few more smiles and laughs from him. Her plans for revenge and change would still be there tomorrow. Her daddy had always made sure they went to church on Sunday: “ _ it’s the Lord’s day and we’re gonna make sure we spend it with family, immersed in His words.” _

Beth was planning on making Sunday the day that she spent with the person that had become her family in a very short amount of time. And if they wanted to immerse themselves in the Good Word… well, she had one in mind. Revelations 6:8.

_ I looked, and there before me was a pale horse. Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth. _ __

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was so short. I can guarantee the next few chapters will make up for it. I hope the content and Beth starting to realize a few things made up for the brevity! Thank you as always for reading! Comments are always welcome, they help on the days I stare at the screen and the words aren't happening!


	17. Tombstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night and a little adventure for Daryl and Ozzy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of update on Sunday. This week has been something else. I hope it won't happen again, but ya never know! I hope this chapter makes up for the delay and that the new chapter will once again be upon Sunday! Thanks as always to my beta SquishyCool. She really came through this week for me, especially since she's having to deal with all of the crazy panic purchasers!

**Tombstone**

Beth was lighter somehow. That wasn’t a term that Daryl Dixon would ever use, but that’s the only description he could come up with—she was  _ lighter _ .

She seemed to float around the cabin once they got back, and when they walked down to the pond, she was even laughing. Something he thought he’d already heard from her, but no. This laughter was genuine. This was Beth. The  _ real _ Beth that wasn’t weighed down by her family and their business, a jackass boyfriend, and all of the other things that had been dragging her down for years. He was enjoying spending time with her, and when she’d asked if he would walk down to the pond with her, he didn’t even hesitate. She knew that he was a hunter and had asked him questions about the birds that were diving around the water.

Now she was surrounded by pots and pans in the kitchen. She wanted to make him her mom’s spaghetti sauce from scratch, but their shopping spree hadn’t included many fresh ingredients. She was settling for the stuff in the jar they had thought to grab. He was sitting where she’d been this morning, her notes still covering most of the counter. They were just thoughts that had probably jumped into her head and hastily scribbled down onto Post-Its:  _ Gareth’s mom’s boss? Amy, Andrea, and Phillip? Aaron, Dwight, and Reg? Connections between Dixon and Greene???  _

“Ya did all this last night?” He answered her confused gaze by sweeping his hand over all of the notes. He didn’t miss the pink that started to spread across her cheeks. She didn’t answer him, but bit her lip, shrugged and nodded. Then she turned back towards the stove and began adding the spaghetti to the boiling water. 

She was thorough. He was sure that the journal she’d had on her all day would have meticulous plans and ideas. This was just her throwing things out. “Who is ‘Gareth’s mom’s boss’?” She’d been so excited to tell him about her plans this morning and he’d shut her down, so now he was going to make sure that he listened to her. If she was still willing to talk to him.

Beth turned and fixed those baby blue eyes on him, almost like she was studying him to see if he was messing with her or if he really wanted to know. She must have seen the sincerity he was trying to convey because she sighed and walked over, resting her elbows on the counter and picking up the exact note that idea was written on.

“I met him once,” she explained. “I went over to Gareth’s apartment to surprise him. That was a bad idea from the start. When I got there, this man was there. He just gave me a weird feeling. Whenever he saw me, his face almost looked like somebody had just handed him a blank check. It always stuck out to me— his reaction when he saw me. He tried to cover up his excitement, but I’ll always remember how…  _ excited _ he was to see me. I just thought it was ‘cause he was a creepy old dude or somethin’, but now… maybe this was actually  _ Gareth’s  _ boss and not his mom’s like he told me. All I know is that Gareth got really weird when I showed up at the door and then this other guy left almost immediately. He looked at me like I was some kinda grand prize and then just left.”

She raised her head a little bit and glanced over at him. Her blonde hair partially obscuring her eyes, she pushed the strands behind her ear and he was given an unobstructed view of her face. He was reminded of a cartoon he’d seen on TV when he was younger. The fairy that took care of the lost boys or something. He couldn’t quite remember.

She shook her head before she finished her story, “Gareth, he was so mad that I’d just shown up at. He would do it all the time, but me showing up at his place without warning… that just set him off. I didn’t really think about it again, but last night I was thinkin’ of all the people that I met while I was with him and for some reason, that guy stands out. When I asked Gareth who he was, he just said ‘ _ my mom’s boss’  _ like that was all I needed to know.”

If he hadn’t already killed him, Daryl would happily kill the asshole again just for the pain that was evident in Beth’s eyes when she talked about him. “What’d he look like? Anythin’ that stands out?”

“He was tall, dark hair with some gray in it, slicked back. He reminded me of those guys in the movies that always play a villain that everybody loves. He was… ugh, I dunno… slimy. Snakey. A real fuckin’ creep.” She suddenly remembered that she had food on the stove and turned around to grab a wooden spoon and check on the pasta. 

“Well that describes ‘bout ninety percent of the people that my brother an’ old man dealt with on a daily basis.” He laughed, trying to put that description to a face. And he actually did come up with about twenty names. “Who’re Amy, Andrea, and Phillip?” He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but the names Andrea and Phillip were ringing a few bells in his head. Someone that Will had been dealing with around the time that Daryl walked away. 

“Amy is a friend from the hospital, she’s an ER doc. She introduced me to Gareth, told me that he was a family friend. Just makes me wonder how well she knew him. Or if they’re the kinda people I should be looking into, as well.” She busied herself adding the pasta to the sauce and mixing them together. “Andrea is Amy’s sister and Phillip is her husband. He falls into that creepy category, too.”

Daryl made himself useful, grabbing two plates from the cabinet and a couple forks from the drawer. “They blonde? Uh, Amy an’ Andrea? Tall and blonde?”

Beth whipped around and stared at him, not even noticing that the spoon still clutched in her hand was dripping sauce onto the tiles. “Yeah. D’ya know them?”

He shrugged before taking the spoon from her and putting it back in the pot on the stove. “They sound familiar. The names did at first, and then I remembered a guy comin’ by the yard with his wife an’ her sister. Tall and blonde. Guy was tall, brown hair.”

“That sounds a lot like Phillip. Maybe we should finally sit down an’ compare some notes. Just not now. Let’s have a night to not be Beth Greene and Daryl Dixon, the last ones standing in our families. Let’s just be Beth and Daryl, two friends watchin’  _ Tombstone _ and eatin’ spaghetti.”

He gave her a smile and nodded his head. He actually liked that plan. He was more than willing to spend the evening with a pretty girl that seemed to enjoy his company as much as he did hers. His favorite movie and some good food didn’t hurt, either. He grabbed two beers from the fridge and took them over to the coffee table before coming back to the kitchen where Beth was heaping spaghetti onto both of the plates. She handed him one and then grabbed her own. 

As soon as they were both settled onto the couch and digging into their dinner, Beth started the movie. And for a time, they were both lost in the world of Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, and Curly Bill. 

Halfway through the movie, Daryl remembered the one thing that had made Merle  _ need  _ to own this movie and probably made Daryl love it even more. The first time they’d watched it, he couldn’t remember where they were. Probably had snuck over to some friend of Merle’s house when Will was passed out. The Dixon brothers had realized that one of the Cowboys bore a very strong resemblance to Merle. Even if you added some weight and made the hair shorter and grayer, the actor was a dead ringer for Daryl’s older brother.

And the thought hit Daryl at that moment: this might be the only way that he would see Merle’s face again, even if it wasn’t  _ his _ face exactly. It was close enough to bring back the memories. To keep his brother from being forgotten, to keep his face from fading away forever. 

“Daryl? Did you want another beer?” Beth was standing next to the couch with both of their empty plates in her hand, gesturing to his empty beer bottle. “Do you?” He nodded his head and she grabbed the empty and headed to the kitchen.

He could hear her rattling around in the kitchen. Rinsing plates and stacking them in the sink and then the tinkling of bottles as she pulled fresh beers out of the fridge. She extended the opened beer to him with a smile and settled back on the couch next to him. Closer than she’d been when they were eating. It was a shock to his system that he didn’t try to slide away from her, he just relaxed and settled further into the couch, propping his socked feet onto the coffee table and letting himself relax completely. Really, for the first time since Rick had called him that night. 

He wasn’t sure what made him open his mouth and let the words tumble out, but he was almost completely sure it was all Beth. “See that guy right there?” He pointed to the actor that reminded him of Merle. Beth nodded her head and then turned questioning blue eyes on him. “He looks just like Merle did when he was younger. Now he’s got a buzz cut and he’s put on a lotta weight. Or… I guess he did. Doesn’t have much of anything now.”

Fuck, how did him trying to share something with her become him depressing them both? 

Beth had laid her hand on his and was giving it a small squeeze. “Hey, it’s okay. If your brother looked like him, he was a handsome guy. I wish I could’ve had a chance to know him. Even with all of them stories you’ve told me about him.” She turned on the cushion and faced him head-on, still holding his hand. He was hoping she wouldn’t realize what she was doing and not let go anytime soon. Even this small touch from her was offering more comfort to him than anyone else in his life had. “Do you wanna watch somethin’ else?”

“Nah, it’s just gettin’ ta the best parts. Ya okay with all the huntin’ down and killin’ that’s about to happen?” He hadn’t thought about that until now. Maybe she didn’t need to see all of that so close to her family dying and watching her boyfriend die in front of her. 

“Yeah, I’m okay with it. ‘S just a movie right?” She turned her body back to face the screen, but she didn’t let go of his hand. She even weaved her fingers through his.

If he turned his hand over underneath hers, they would really be holding hands. Something he never did. With anyone. Not one of the random girls that Merle had thrown at him over the years. He couldn’t even remember holding hands with Frankie during the few months he’d spent with the red-headed massage therapist. She didn’t like that he wouldn’t commit and that he didn’t want to be all over her in public. Daryl had never been more relieved when he got a text message from her telling him that she just couldn't do it anymore.

Feeling bold, he turned his hand over and she immediately weaved their fingers together again. Palm to palm felt even better. This wasn’t as bad as he’d always imagined it would be. Probably had more to do with the woman that was holding it than the skin contact itself. 

They stayed that way through the rest of the movie, hands clasped, shoulders touching, thighs and knees pressed together. It was like she was attached to him in as many ways as she was willing to be at this exact moment. As the credits rolled, he knew the moment was over and she would be going back upstairs to make more of her plans. And then he would be back in his bed over there, most likely with visions of this little blonde running through his head all night. 

“Ya ever see the show  _ Lost _ ?” Once again she kept having to pull him out of the chaotic thoughts invading his mind. 

“Um, no.” He wasn’t even sure he’d heard about a show called  _ Lost _ right now, thought if it kept them comfortably on this couch, he would happily watch with her.

“It’s a crazy fuckin’ show! There’s a plane crash on a deserted island, and there’s a smoke monster, a polar bear, oh—and then time travel! The first few seasons are great, the ending not so much. I saw Ozzy had it. Ya wanna give the first few episodes a try?” She was already jumping up and heading to the shelf with the movies on it before he nodded his head in agreement. She gave him one of her giant smiles and pulled a box set out off the shelf. She carefully pulled out the first disc and slipped it into the machine.

Beth had been right, this show was crazy. But he had to admit he was hooked. He needed to know what the hell was happening on this island. He was turning his head to tell her when he saw that somehow he’d been so taken in by the show, he hadn’t noticed her head resting on his shoulder, and the arm attached to the hand that was once again holding his was slipped through the crook of his elbow. And… she was sound asleep.

She looked peaceful in a way he didn’t think he’d ever seen her. The weight and hurt that had been surrounding her was gone. She was just a young woman in her twenties.

The disc that had been playing ran out of episodes and the TV was just a blue screen casting an eerie light around the room. Beth had left the remote between them and he was able to reach it and turn the TV off without jostling her. She looked so comfortable and he knew he probably wouldn't be in the morning, but he was good now.

So instead of moving her, he laid his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. 

* * *

**_KNOCK!_ ** **_  
_ ** **_KNOCK!_ ** **_  
_ ** **_KNOCK!_ **

Daryl jerked into consciousness, just as the person that was sprawled on top of him was whining about it being too early… wait, how the hell did Beth end up laying on top of him? Last he remembered, she was sitting next to him with her head on his shoulder.

But now they were flat on the couch, stretched out, and she was laying completely on top of him, her arm folded across his chest with her head resting atop it. Thankfully, her hips and legs were between him and the couch so she wouldn’t have to feel the morning erection that was making itself known. Realizing she was on top of him wasn’t helping it go anywhere either. 

“Who the hell is knockin’ on the door this early?” The sleepy voice came from his chest muffled by the arm her mouth was pressed against.

“Dunno, but ya gotta get off me for me to go see.” Daryl gently moved her off his chest and laid her back on the couch, trying to ignore the look of surprise she’d shot him when she realized where she’d been sleeping. Standing up, he had to adjust himself before he traumatized whoever was at the door.

Beth stood up as well and went sprinting up the stairs, mumbling something that he couldn’t hear as she went. He wanted to mumble a few things himself. He looked through the peephole and laughed when he saw who was on the other side. The man had impeccable timing.

“Ozzy, what’s up? Awfully early fer housecalls, isn’t it?” Daryl hoped he didn’t sound like an ass. He genuinely liked this guy, it was just his ability to interrupt things that he wasn’t such a fan of. 

“Oh, well yes, and I hate to interrupt the honeymoon festivities, but I thought we should maybe take a ride up to the meadow… see if the pigs have dealt with our… um… our  _ problem _ .” He’d lowered his voice and raised his eyes to the loft when he mentioned the body in the meadow. “There’s about to be a lotta people on the mountain an’ nobody really comes up here or to that meadow, but ya never know where people are gonna decide to go off the trail. Think it might be in all of our best interests to make sure they don't accidentally stumble upon somethin’ they don’t need ta be seein’.” His bushy eyebrows raised comically at that. 

Daryl sighed, knowing that they needed to make sure Gareth was pig food by now. He didn’t want someone stumbling over a half-eaten body and bringing cops and certain other types down on them. “Yeah, we should do that. Gimme a minute ta change.” He turned and looked up towards the loft. “Beth, Ozzy’s here!”

Her musical laughter floated down the stairs and as he was grabbing clothes and heading towards the bathroom, she was coming back down the stairs and offering Ozzy donuts, asking if he wanted her to make some coffee. 

“Daryl an’ I started watching  _ Lost  _ last night. We’ll see how long he can put up with it!” She was in a good mood this morning, he could tell by the conversation that was coming through the wall.

He quickly brushed his teeth, ran water over his face and tried to run his fingers through his hair to make it a little more presentable. Wasn’t worth the fight—he’d just grab one of his hats on the way out the door. He’d grabbed a black button down that he’d ripped the sleeves off of and the gray jeans that had been at the bottom of his bag. He stopped to throw his dirty clothes in the basket Beth had found and put at the foot of his bed. Then he was heading for the kitchen when something made him stop and grab the other thing he’d found in the bag yesterday. His leather vest with the wings stitched on the back. It had been a gift from Merle, and after talking about him last night, it just seemed right to wear it today. The black baseball cap with the yellow writing across it was on the floor and he grabbed it and smushed it down over his unruly hair. 

He stood next to Beth and nudged her shoulder with his own. “Gonna head to the meadow, see if there's anythin’ left a Gareth. Ya wanna come or ya wanna stay here?”

Ozzy and Beth both looked at him in shock. He was trying to figure out what he’d said, but then remembered how he’d fought to not let her out of his sight again.

He went on, “If ya stay, ya keep that piece on ya, one in the chamber and ya don’t open that fuckin door fer nothin’. Just don’t shoot me when I come back.”

Her smile was all the answer he needed. She could take care of herself, and he didn't think she really needed to see what had happened to Gareth’s body over the past few hours since they’d dumped him. 

“Aye aye, Mr. Dixon. I won't even move from the bed upstairs! Ya aren’t the most comfortable mattress ta sleep on, ya know.” She rose up and kissed him on the cheek, giving him a mischievous smile as she waved at Ozzy and grabbed her coffee and donut. Then she was back up the stairs again. 

Daryl glanced over at Ozzy to see his eyes were wide as saucers. The look Daryl shot him in response had the ranger raising his hands and walking towards the door, shaking his head. 

* * *

The pair of men rode most of the way to the meadow in silence. They threw some shovels into the back of the jeep in case they needed to bury part of Gareth’s remains. Occasionally, Ozzy would point to a pond that was stocked with fish, or a place that he’d seen an overpopulation of deer, glancing towards Daryl’s crossbow. 

They pulled into the meadow and were about to get out when twelve large-headed pigs with long tusks raised up and turned their heads towards the two men. “Well… I think they found the body,” Ozzy whispered, stating the obvious. 

Sensing they might be in danger, the pigs had started to move towards the trees. Daryl had his crossbow loaded and in front of him, ready to fire if one of them charged. Ozzy likewise had a rifle aimed at the two biggest pigs. There was rustling around where the body had been and one of the young pigs came darting out, a big toe dangling from its mouth. Daryl said a silent thank you for not having eaten breakfast yet. That sight probably would have brought it right back up.

The two men slowly went back to the jeep and waited until all the pigs were gone. Ozzy slowly drove closer to where they’d just been feasting. Daryl took off his seatbelt and leaned out the window to study the ground. All that was left was a few bones and some stray chunks of hair. The pigs would deal with that in no time, though.

“I think we’re good.” He slipped back into the car and put his seatbelt back on. “Ya said there’s gonna be more people up here soon. Me an’ Beth need ta get out?”

Ozzy shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. They never come up this far. Occasionally a few that get lost, but the only thing they’re comin’ for happens at night, and the tourists always stick to the path at night. Tell ‘em enough stories about coyotes, bears, mountain lions, and now I guess feral pigs. They tend ta stay where they hopefully won't die.”

Daryl nodded slightly and rubbed his hand across the facial hair at his chin. He didn’t want to be that close to so many people. He didn’t want  _ Beth _ that close to so many people. But right now, he didn't have much of a choice until they had a plan. He’d talk to Beth about it when he got back to the cabin. It was time for them to sit down and get these plans laid out. Hear her out on what she’d come up with. 

“Hopefully y’all will still be here for the big event.”

Daryl cut his eyes toward Ozzy, trying to figure out what the hell this ‘big event’ was and why he and Beth needed to see it.

The other man went on, “The Synchronous Fireflies Event. Ya never heard of it? You an’ Beth have the best view of it from the window upstairs. Tens of thousands of fireflies take over the mountain an’ all light up in sync—it’s like the whole mountain glows. It’s one of the most magical and romantic things I ever did see. Romantic for the fireflies too, since it’s their matin’ season! Also pretty romantic to watch from a window in a cabin in the mountains… on your honeymoon.” Ozzy was smiling and nodding at Daryl.

He was going to kill Beth for telling Ozzy they were on their honeymoon. But he was also thinking that it  _ might  _ be worth seeing.

With Beth. From that window in the upstairs bedroom.


	18. The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little insight into the Greene family organization...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's update time! So the past two weeks have been crazy... for all of us I think. I'm not sure they will calm down anytime soon. I'm hoping that updates will be coming regularly again, but I can't completely say that 100%. My amazing cool as hell beta has still been dealing with the world and is dealing with all of the crazy people out there panic buying things! She was able to get this edited and looked over for me and she's the best for that!   
> I hope you are all staying as safe as possible and that this insane period of time we are living through isn't causing too many problems. Hopefully this is something we can come together on and get some calm brought back into the world. Stay home if you can. Wash our hands! Most importantly take care of yourself and your friends and family!!!!!!!!!!

**The Family**

Beth wasn’t sure if it was her newfound confidence or if Daryl was just feeling more comfortable, but he had no problem leaving her in the cabin while he and Ozzy went to see if there was anything left of Gareth. She had been craving time alone, but not long after they left, she began to miss his quiet presence around the cabin. Last night had been exactly what she’d needed, and hopefully what Daryl had needed too. He even decided  _ Lost  _ was one of the most ridiculous shows he’d ever seen, but he liked it! This morning had been... something else entirely.

She had slept better last night than she had since she left her apartment. It probably had to do with the broad chest she used for a pillow and the strong arms that were wrapped around her. A year ago, Beth would have been embarrassed that she fell asleep like that with a man she barely knew, but now it seemed normal. It was comfortable. A safe place in this storm that had become her life. She wasn’t entirely sure anything would have happened when they both came to full consciousness, but now they would never know. Ozzy and his perfect timing had jolted them out of their little bubble.

They would have time to deal with it later. Beth wasn’t even sure that Daryl was a  _ deal with this  _ type of person. She was becoming more and more aware that he wasn’t. Well, she would talk and he would listen like he always did. He was a good man like that. Right now, she had something else on her mind. Something she needed to get figured out before she went ahead with any of her plans. 

The Post-It notes from the other morning were right where she’d left them. Beth grabbed them and one of the sharpies and a pen. She wasn’t completely sure how expansive her family business was, but she had a pretty good grasp on the major players and she needed to have them clear in her head. This wasn’t something she needed to just jump into blindly, she had to have every step planned out and have at least two backup plans in place before she made one tiny move.

Clearing everything off the coffee table so she could make her own version of a flow chart, she sat down and prepared herself to dive into the world she’d avoided for so long. The very top seemed the best place to start. On the first note, she wrote  **GREENE** and stuck it at the top of the table.

Thirty minutes later, nearly the entire table was covered with names, descriptions, locations, and question marks. Beth sat back and looked over everything. This was bigger than she’d ever expected. It was probably even bigger, but this was just what she knew.

Her eyes were starting to cross from staring at everything for too long when she heard the front door open. Her hand went to the gun that had been by her side and her head whipped towards the door. Her hand relaxed and went back to rubbing her temple when she saw that it was just Daryl.

He was looking wide-eyed between her and the table. An expression of amusement on his face. His right hand was pulling at the hairs on his chin and the blue eyes had a hint of mischief in them. “Why’s it that every time I leave ya alone, ya manage ta cover shit in Post-Its?”

Beth laughed—not just a small laugh, but the kind that started at her toes and exploded through her whole body. A laugh she hadn’t experienced in years. He probably did think she was crazy with all of her  _ art projects  _ that had been showing up.

“I’m a visual person, Daryl. I need to see somethin’ to really grasp it.” She gestured over the paper covering the table in front of her, and nodded her head at the other half of the couch silently asking him to sit with her. He collapsed down next to her and tried to take in all of her work. “This is the extent of the Greene Family business as far as I know. I’m hopin’ you can look this over and tell me if there’s something or someone you know that I missed.”

Daryl nodded his head and in a move she’d learned meant that he was thinking, he began chewing on the side of his thumbnail. 

“Um, so how was the… um… the body?” Was there an easy way to ask if the pack of feral pigs that lived a few miles from here had disposed of her fake boyfriend’s body?

Daryl froze and slowly turned his head towards her. He moved his hand from his mouth to the back of his neck and rubbed nervously. 

His eyes were locked on hers and he was chewing on his lip, like he was gauging her mood. Apparently what he saw was enough to reassure him that she wasn’t about to fall apart or scream at him again. “Pigs did their job, saw a little one eat his toe.” His eyes widened comically when he realized what he’d said.

If the laughter she had just finished was a release, the one that escaped her now was a little bit maniacal. Did he  _ really _ just tell her that he’d seen a baby pig eating one of Gareth’s toes?

“His toe? A pig… a pig was… eating… his toe?” She could barely get the sentence out, she was laughing so hard. It was getting hard to catch her breath! “They don’t ever mention that part in the fairytale ‘bout the _Three Little Pigs_ , do they?” Suddenly a thought struck her: a game she had played with some of the babies that she’d babysat through high school to make extra cash. “Can you imagine? ‘ _This little pig went to the market, this little pig stayed home. This little pig had roast beef and this little pig had none. And this little pig did not go wee wee wee all the way home, he was munching on someone’s toe!’_ That’s how ya traumatize some kids!” 

Daryl had turned to stare at her. He looked like he was holding back his own laughter, but he was making sure that she wasn’t in the middle of a mental break. Convinced that she wasn’t, he finally joined in laughing with her.

They laughed those deep belly laughs for a few minutes before they both collapsed back on the couch pressed closely to each other’s sides.

“Girl, I dunno what’s gotten inta ya, but ya got one fucked-up sense of humor!” Shaking his head, he went back to staring at the paper in front of him, but he wasn’t as tense as he’d been when he first sat down. “A’ight, don’t make me read all this, tell me who these people are. If yer gonna be the HBIC, this needs ta be somethin’ ya know. Should just be like breathin’ ta you.”

Beth took a deep breath and explained: “Well, my dad isn’t at the top of the chain anymore, so under him is: T, Maggie, and Glenn. They’ve all been essentially taken out now. Beta… I’m not sure about Beta. He was basically my dad and—by extension—our… bodyguard? He’s more than that, but that’s the best term I can come up with.” Daryl was chewing his nail again. Watching her like she figured he watched a deer when he was hunting. He nodded, encouraging her to go on. “They’re all off the board now.” Beth didn’t have time to mourn the fact that because of death or protection, she’d probably never see them again. “Everybody else is spread out through the East Coast and into Europe.”

“Tell me who they are. Where they are. What they do,” Daryl encouraged. 

Beth pointed to the next level of papers. “Eugene Porter, he’s in Boston. I think once we get there, he’s the first person we need to talk to. He’s in charge of communications for the whole organization. He runs our security checks, makes sure that a background check is run on everyone… which might be somethin’ we should work on. Considering the whole Gareth situation. Eugene keeps the trains runnin’ on schedule.” She slid her finger to the next name. “Magna. She’s in New Orleans most of the time, but travels to Atlanta, New York City, and Boston. She runs the clubs and the gambling rings. Some of ‘em legal, some of ‘em not so much. Then there’s her girlfriend, Yumiko. She’s the daughter of a diplomat from… Japan, I think. She’s a lawyer, but not _our_ lawyer. Her mom is a doctor, so Yumiko uses her diplomatic pouch and all her privileges to bring in meds. She works with Siddiq. He’s a doctor, he’s got a network that stretches all over the country.”

The look on Daryl’s face made her stop. She wasn’t sure what she’d said that hardened his features, but they’d gone from open and understanding to disbelieving. “Yer dad was movin’ drugs? When I knew him, he was always against ‘em. That’s one thing I always respected ‘bout him.”

Beth was shaking her head and quickly put her hand on his knee to stop him. “Not  _ illegal _ drugs—well, not the kind yer thinkin’. D’you remember when Carol’s daughter was really sick a few years ago? Her allergies and her asthma?” She stopped long enough for him to jerkily nod his head once. “Their insurance didn’t cover her meds. Carol woulda been payin’ thousands a dollars a month to keep her on the meds she needed. Daddy found out and he figured somethin’ out. Siddiq, he brings in meds from Canada. Inhalers, EpiPens, basic stuff that most people require but can’t afford. I’m not sure how he gets ahold of it all. I guess that’s somethin’ I’ll have to figure out. He supplies the meds to clinics, makes sure that the people that really need it can get them. Yumiko, she handles the things that are harder to come by. She brings in the stuff for AIDS patients and cancer patients. Stuff that works, but is so tied up in American red tape that nobody can access it here. Since her dad is a diplomat, she has one of those pouches that they aren’t allowed to search when she comes into the country.”

Daryl had sunk back into the couch and his face, which had been cold and disbelieving moments ago, was open and he had what she could only describe as awe radiating off of him. “So my old man an’ brother are pumpin’ the world full a shit that kills people, like the faster they can get the meth and the H on the street, the better. Then there was yer dad, makin’ sure people get the drugs they actually  _ need _ ta save their lives… Shit. Will Dixon, he deserves ta be in the ground fer all the fucked-up shit he did. But Hershel, he deserves ta still be here. You deserve to still have him. Ya keep tellin’ me I’m a good man, but you an’ yer dad… Yer the good people we need in the world. I know ya think this is all illegal an’ somethin’ to be ashamed of, but it’s not. Ya wanna take over? Ya want yer revenge? I’m in. I’m all in. Whatever ya need from me. But on one condition: ya keep doin’ the good that yer daddy started. The world needs the Greene’s to keep goin’.”

Beth didn’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t sure she could say anything at this point. This man she’d grown to respect and care for was willing to take on this crazy plan with her.

Instead of saying anything, she reacted on instinct and leaned forward, throwing her arms around his neck. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and gripped him as tightly as she could. She hadn’t realized how badly she wanted his acceptance. How much she’d been craving the  _ yes _ he’d just given her. The tears that she didn’t want to let flow were soaking the collar of his shirt.

Beth started to pull back, but Daryl tightened his arms around her and kept her close, letting her finally find the emotional release that had been building up for days. He believed in her. He was with her. This wasn’t a fool's errand that she’d suddenly cooked up in her grief.

No, it was real. And Daryl  _ wanted _ to be a part of it.

* * *

They only stayed like that for a few minutes, and then Beth was handing the paper and pen to Daryl.

"Is there anybody still around that we can contact?" He shook his head, the dark bangs swishing across his forehead. "Okay… can you do what I did and break down the operation? Who was where and what they did? Start from the top an’ work your way down. Maybe something will jump out at us."

She expected him to argue, but he went to work and, in his slightly narrow handwriting, wrote  **WILL** and stuck it on the table. 

Beth wanted to leave him to work, so she went to the kitchen and found a bag of potato chips and a large bowl. She looked over at him while she was pouring the chips and saw that he was chewing on his lip again, trying to think of something before he wrote it down. She smiled to herself. She was enjoying getting to know his little quirks. Grabbing two beers from the fridge, she walked back to the living room and sat down her snacks and drinks before firing up the Blu-ray player and picking back up where they'd fallen asleep during  _ Lost. _

He only had about 8 Post-Its filled out when he sat back and looked over at her. “Definitely not the massive organization that you got. It was more my old man, Merle, an’ their degenerate friends. Yer dad comin’ and askin’ fer some help was the only thing that made it work.” 

Beth looked at the names that were written down: Will, Merle, Joe, Martinez, Len, Joey, Andrew, and Tomas. Nothing else, just the names. She gave him a questioning glance and he seemed to interpret her meaning.

“Not like they had assigned jobs. Basically move the drugs, run the guns, an’ keep the girls in line. Usually don’t get shot or arrested was included in that somewhere. And if ya did, keep yer mouth shut.”

She didn’t know what else to do but nod and continue staring. “Were they all there that night? They were all killed?”

What else was there to ask? So did you ever sell the drugs, or exactly what did you mean by  _ keep the girls in line _ ? 

Daryl shrugged one shoulder and kept looking at the table, avoiding her gaze. Was he ashamed of what he’d told her? She knew that there was a terrible side of this world and from what she had gathered, Will Dixon was the one that ran that part, but he also kept things civil for Hershel. One day they were going to have to get into what that deal entailed completely. That day was needing to come sooner rather than later. If they were going to work together, they needed to have all the cards laid out. She wouldn’t hold anything that his family had done over his head. Hell, her dad had his own skeletons in his closet.

“I’m guessin’ they were. Have ta ask Rick next time. Fuckers were always at the junkyard. Well, there or the bar.” 

“We should prolly start a list of things ta ask Rick. Ya think he’s got somebody sittin’ on the motel? If they saw the email ya sent and and believed it, then they should be expectin’ you there soon.” Beth was hoping that her idea hadn’t just been her brain being over confident and thinking that she was smarter than the people that had carried out two mass executions simultaneously. They probably saw the email and assumed that they were being played.

“I think it was a good idea an’ if anythin’ was gonna work, it’d be that. Just have to wait an’ see what happens. We’ll go down and call Rick again tomorrow.” He finally looked up at her and she could tell that he wasn’t just trying to placate her. He actually believed that her plan was a good one and that it might actually be the first step in unraveling this whole mess. 

She didn’t know what else to do, so she shoved one of the beers into his hand, grabbed her own, put the bowl of chips on her lap and scooted as close to him as she could get. He tensed up for a fraction of a second, but then relaxed against her. She let herself melt into his side, concentrating on the screen in front of her and ignoring the tiny pieces of paper that reminded her that she wasn’t having a mini-vacation in the mountains with a friend.

It was starting to feel like her new mantra, but  _ tomorrow  _ kept repeating in her head. She would deal with it tomorrow.  _ They  _ would deal with it tomorrow.

Right now, the only thing she wanted to think about was how warm Daryl was next to her and how good he smelled. How the stitches in his forehead looked good and seemed to be healing well. She just wanted to hold onto this feeling… this odd sensation.

It took her a few moments to put a name to it, but when she did… it was  _ happiness _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been hitting a few mental roadblocks and writing has been slow. I've had a hard time writing and a hard time just with life in general. Reading all of your comments and knowing that you are all still enjoying this fic helps more than any of you will ever know. Please don't stop!!!! LOL!!!!


	19. Breaking Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to catch up with Merle!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Time got away from me this month. This chapter is all about Merle... there is some mention of drug use, excessive drinking, and child abuse. It all takes place in the flashback in the middle of the chapter. I have it italicized so if any of that is a trigger for you and you think it's best you skip it that's where it is. I will separate it as well with the lines. When I started writing this I tried to picture Will Dixon in my head and the prevailing image was Kris Kristofferson in the Blade movies. Of course his scenes with Norman in Blade 2 helped! He will come into the story more in future chapters, but if you wanted to know how I picture him for this story look him up in that movie! Thanks as always to my beta SquishyCool. She keeps me going and reminds me to keep writing! 
> 
> If you do skip the flashback check out the notes at the end I will put a little summary of it in there.

**Breaking Bad**

“Merle. I’ve got some good news and some bad news.” Jacqui made a few notes on the tablet she was holding while she talked to him.

Merle wasn’t scared of many people, but the past few days had taught him to have a healthy dose of fear for the nurse. He cringed remembering when she’d come in and told him he needed to start getting up and being mobile, which meant the catheter was coming out. That was an experience he never planned to have again. He would just lay in bed and piss himself if he was ever laid up like this again. 

“Yer finally movin’ me outta this room so I don’t have’ta see yer face again?” Merle might have some fear of her, but he wasn’t going to let it show. 

Jacqui began removing his IV and the sensors that had been recording his vitals while they talked. “Yer definitely moving Merle, that’s the good news. The bad news is you don’t get to  _ see  _ this beautiful face anymore. I’m gonna miss our talks and all the time we’ve spent getting to know each other… intimately, if you recall.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Dr. Edwards has signed your release papers and Officer Walsh is gonna be here soon to take you wherever you're going next.”

Walsh? Why the fuck did Rick hate him so much that he sent that prick to come and get him? “Don’t I need the normal hospital first? Ya can’t release me till I’m healed, an’ I’ve been up here in ICU the whole time. I don’t think ya’ll are doin’ very good at respectin’ my rights!”

Jacqui gave him a look, one that told him she was going to be elated to see the last of him. “You’ve been stuck up here because the list of people that know yer alive didn’t need to get longer. Now, yer strong enough and it’s time you get the hell off my floor and outta my hospital.” 

“Yer bedside manner still needs some work, Nurse Ratchet. Can’t say it’s been a pleasure. Whatta ya gonna give me ta wear? Can’t go paradin’ out the front door with my sexy white ass hangin’ outta this gown, now can I?” He was ready to get out of this bed and do more than just walk around the damn hospital room. The fact that he was cooperating with the cops was going to be new and probably painful to deal with at first. He was doing it for Daryl.

Little brother was going to get his chance for once. Even if that meant Merle was stuck in a safe house. Hopefully this cop they were sticking him with would be easy on the eyes. Maybe she’d enjoy a little fun while they killed time. 

“Talk to Shane about that when he gets here,” Jacqui said. “As of right now,  _ you _ are no longer my problem.” She laid a large stack of paperwork on the bedside table and tapped her finger on it. “These are your discharge instructions. If ya wanna stay alive,  _ read  _ them. You can read, can’t ya?”

Merle rolled his eyes at her, but nodded just in case she actually thought he couldn’t.

“Good,” she smiled. “With your previous… issues, I would suggest using the over-the-counter pain relief meds. But there is a prescription for somethin’ stronger in here, as well.”

Merle was trying to tune out her nagging voice when his other least favorite person sauntered their pompous ass into the room. “Officer Jackass!” He grinned. “Heard we’re gonna be spendin’ some time together!”

“Douchebag! No, we’re not,” Walsh quipped. “I’m just gettin’ yer honky ass outta this hospital.” Merle found himself on the receiving end of one of Shane’s sarcastic smirks before the deputy turned to Jacqui. “Can ya find him somethin’ to wear, by chance? I’m assumin’ the clothes he came in wearin’ ain’t exactly goin’ out the door with us.”

The evil nurse nodded and hurried out of the room. 

Shane strode over to him, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Merle, I don’t think you got any idea how much fun I’m ‘bout ta have gettin’ you outta the hospital. Just in case anybody’s watchin’ the hospital, we’re takin’ ya out the way ya prolly should've been all along. After ya get somethin’ else on, we’re gonna put ya on a different stretcher. Then I’m gonna cover you with a sheet, and wheel yer ass to the morgue like the dead body you shoulda been ten years ago. Rick called in a favor with that creepy little fucker at the funeral home and we’re takin’ ya there in the van. That’s when Rick’s gonna take ya where yer stayin’. Had to change the plans. Yer brother decided to complicate things for us. Got it?”

He hadn’t really been paying attention to anything Shane was saying to him, but he definitely caught the part about his brother. “Daryl? What happened with Daryl? He alright?”

Shane nodded his head and surprisingly replied without a hint of sarcasm, “He’s fine. Nothin’ wrong. ‘S just him an’ that little Greene girl have been… busy.”

Merle couldn’t contain the laughter. Daryl, busy with the farmer’s daughter? No way that was happening. He didn't have time to ask more questions though, because Jacqui was back.

She gave him a bright, devilish smile and dropped a set of light pink scrubs onto the bed. “Only thing I could find that’d fit ya. Good thing the new OB doc is the same size as you.” She turned and walked out the door without so much as a goodbye.

“Those are really gonna bring out yer eyes, Merle. Pink is definitely yer color.” Walsh was laughing his stupid ass off and heading for the door. “I’m gonna go grab the gurney while ya change—ain’t got no plans to traumatize myself with visions of yer naked white ass.”

Merle gingerly pulled on the scrubs, which he hated to admit were surprisingly comfortable. He might have to look into getting some more of these things, but in a less flaming homo color. Walsh was coming back in with Jacqui pushing the gurney.

“She’s gotta take ya down to the morgue,” Shane explained. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t get any stupid ideas.”

The damn nurse was smirking at Merle and comically raising her eyebrows. "Jump on up, sweetheart! Promise I won't do anythin' ya don't like…"

He knew that anything he said now would just be more fodder for her to use in the small amount of time they had left. So Merle gingerly climbed onto the stretcher without complaint and let her cover him with the sheet. He had to keep reminding himself that this was for Daryl… everything he did from here on out was to make up for all the times he'd let his little brother down in the past.

He owed his brother. More than he could ever pay back. Daryl didn’t deserve any of the shit that he’d been through, and Merle wouldn’t blame him if he’d been relieved to hear that big brother Merle was dead. Little brother had put his ass on the line for him more times than Merle probably even knew about. The sheriff hadn’t been lying when he said he should be sitting in a deep dark hole for transporting uranium like he’d been doing.

One of the last times he’d seen Daryl was when he’d seen the full effect of their father’s anger criss-crossing his back. He had  _ scars _ . The old bastard didn’t care who he went after, as long as he could inflict pain. The scars on Daryl’s back were worse than anything Merle had endured. And for the first time in his life, he’d planned to go and show Will that he wasn’t gonna be getting away with it. He’d gone into the house with vengeance on his mind, but then the stacks of money had been pushed towards him and the lines of coke were cut on the mirror. The girls that Will had pulled out of rotation for him and his son that night were draped across the couch and all thoughts of killing his father had gone the way of his brain cells after snorting that first line. Daryl had shown up to make sure that Merle wasn’t going to land himself in prison, but instead of finding a scene of violence, Daryl had seen his brother and his tormentor partying together like they always did.

Merle had seen a wall come down around Daryl that night. Little brother turned around and never came back.

Thinking about that time always brought back memories of a night almost three decades earlier. When Merle had turned his back on his baby brother. When he’d picked the old man, the money, and the drugs over Daryl for the first time. 

* * *

_ Merle was a week out of juvie and two weeks from his eighteenth birthday. Two more weeks and he wouldn’t have to depend on the old man for anything ever again. For the first time in his life, he could feel freedom coming and it was a feeling that he wanted to hang onto. He wanted to share it with Daryl. The kid was more like their mama—didn’t stand a chance with the evil bastard they called Dad. Merle was going to get both of them out, Daryl just had to hang on for a little bit longer. _

_ He was having a hard time trying to get a job; the Dixon name wasn’t exactly a revered one, and everytime someone gave him  _ **_that_ ** _ look, he’d lose his temper and was none too politely told to get the fuck on. He’d find something, though. Either that or he’d take the money from the old man and the Dixon boys would make a run for it.  _

_ Merle was still trying to make the plans come together in his head when the shitty little cabin Will had bought after their mom had burned their house—and herself—up came into view. Only a few more weeks and this place would just be a bad memory in his rearview mirror. _

_ He finished his cigarette, tossing the butt into the can on the porch before clomping up the stairs. The cabin was quiet, almost too quiet. Will was at the rickety table that he tried to pass off as a kitchen table, hunched over something Merle couldn’t see. The living room was covered in empty beer cans, fast food wrappers, and newspapers. It was also missing a slightly annoying eight-year-old. There was only one room in the cabin and Will had claimed it as his, and the little pallet that Daryl slept on in the far corner was tossed around. The sad little pillow that he used every night had been cut open and the cotton stuffing was strewn all over.  _

_ “Where’s Daryl?” Merle called over his shoulder. _

_ The old man didn’t answer him, just gave a slight lift to his shoulders. _

_ “Course’ ya don’ know where yer own damn kid is,” Merle muttered under his breath. He had no desire to get into it with Will right now. A small noise came from the tiny coat closet. So quiet that he almost didn’t catch it, but he knew Daryl’s hiding spots and the closet was one of them.  _

_ Merle crossed the room in two strides and opened the door as quietly as he could, only a few inches to see if his little brother really was in there. And there, huddled in the corner, trying to make himself even smaller than he already was: Daryl. _

_ Wearing those damn hand-me-down pajamas that were too small for him. The bottoms barely covered his knees and the top was so worn that you couldn’t even make out the cartoon Smurfs. He was filthy. Kid probably hadn’t been allowed to have a bath in a week. His bottom lip was split and his left eye was almost swollen completely shut. That didn’t stop the little guy from looking up at his big brother through the overgrown hair that was falling across his face. A flash of relief and hope in his expression. The one blue eye that was still open locked onto Merle’s and it seemed like, for once in his short life, Daryl was experiencing something that resembled… faith. Faith that his big brother was there to save him from the old man.  _

_ “Merle!” The old man barked from where he was sitting. “See this? It’s yours. Just need ya ta do a few things for dear ol’ dad.” _

_ Will was holding up a stack of cash. More money than Merle had seen in his entire life. Had to be at least two or three grand. Enough money to get him and Daryl some place to live. To keep them going until he could get a job.  _

_ Merle turned to look at Will, keeping the door to the closet open so Daryl could hear what was happening as well. “Yeah? Whadd’ya want me ta do?” _

_ Will gestured to an old leather bag that was sitting by the door. “Take what’s in that bag over there down ta Jacksonville. Deliver it, get it all sold. Then keep yer ass there for a few months an’ make sure that every bag I send down there gets sold.” He stood up and pushed his wiry grey hair off his face. Walking up to Merle, he smacked him in the chest with the stack of bills. Then he looked over Merle’s shoulder and spotted his youngest son huddled in the closet. An evil smile crossed his face. “Ya have to leave the li’l bitch here, though. He’s got too much of that gash ya called mama in him. Needs ta spend a li’l more time with me. I’ll toughen his pansy ass up.” _

_ Will dug something out of his pocket and dropped the baggie into his oldest son’s hand. Coke. More coke than Merle had seen before. He’d developed a taste for it right before he went in to juvie this last time, and the sight of that white powder had his mouth watering and his nose twitching something awful. _

_ “That’s just ta get ya out the door,” Will said. “Pop will make sure yer taken care of, son.” He turned away from Merle laughing, knowing full well that he’d just won. _

_ Merle would do whatever he wanted. He was just like the old man: a core weakness for money, drugs, and any woman that would spread her legs for him. _

_ Merle looked back over his shoulder and that damn kid was staring up at him again. This time, the look was pleading with Merle. Begging him with those blue eyes that looked so damn much like his mom’s. _

_ And Merle made his choice right then and there… Daryl  _ **_was_ ** _ too much like their Ma. He wasn’t made for this life. He would need to find a way to survive or he’d turn out just like her, dead in the ground. Merle shrugged his shoulders at the little boy and shut the door with more force than was probably necessary. Then he grabbed the leather bag, stuffed the cash into one of the pockets, and walked out the front door. Will’s maniacal laughter followed him all the way to his truck. _

_ Merle made it all the way to Jacksonville before he gave a second thought to the little boy in the too-small pajamas in the closet. But he was able to chase those thoughts away pretty damn quick by snorting two thick lines with a rolled-up hundred dollar bill. _

* * *

The look in Daryl’s eyes that night still haunted him. Even now, thirty some years later, he would sometimes see that same look flash across his brother’s face. And it would send him right back to that shitty cabin, where he’d failed his brother again and again and again.

Little brother was the one that saved his ass now. Merle would fuck up and make a call and sure enough, Daryl would bail him out, make a deal, or sign the release papers to get him out of the emergency room. Then he’d go right back to screwing up and letting Daryl fix everything.

Who knew that the day would finally come when the best way Merle could pay back everything his brother had done for him would be to play dead?

The elevator they’d been on came to a jolting halt and he found himself wondering if they really were planning to take him out of the hospital through the morgue. He got his answer when the sheet was pulled off of him and he found himself right outside the room with all of the metal drawers.

Merle wondered how many of his friends might still be in there. Will? Martinez? Was Hershel Greene still down here somewhere? Officer Friendly had mentioned something about the oldest Greene being in protection, and he knew the youngest was somewhere with his brother. Who was there to claim the old farmer’s body? Of all the people that died that night, Hershel was the only one that deserved a proper burial. 

“Walsh, whatcha gonna do with all the bodies from that night?” Merle was slowly lowering himself off of the stretcher and waiting for the deputy to finish with the demon nurse herself. 

“Families’ve been notified. It’s their problem now.” 

“What’s happenin’ with Hershel?” Merle didn’t miss the flash of hatred that crossed Shane’s face at that question.

“Wanted to be cremated. Maggie decided to wait until they could bring Beth home ‘fore they scatter ‘em somewhere. Don’ think it’s any of yer business  _ what _ they do.” 

It wasn’t, but Hershel had always been good to him. The Dixon’s wouldn’t have survived as long as they had without him. Losing the Greene patriarch was a blow to more people than Merle could probably ever fathom. Maybe they would let him pay his respects to the man once things were settled. If they were ever settled.

“We’re changin’ plans,” Shane announced. “Rick’s gonna meet us at Carol’s motel outside of town. Seems yer brother an’ Beth been fuckin’ up an’ now they’re tryin’ ta fix it. Who knows, Dixon. You might get a chance ta prove you ain’t the biggest asshole in the county!”

Walsh was walking them down a long hallway toward a set of double doors that led to freedom. If Merle’d been feeling even slightly like himself, he’d find a way to get away from Shane, but no. He was gonna march out those doors wearing his pretty pink pajamas and bide his time. This was him making things up to that little boy in the closet. 

Merle chanced a look over his shoulder and saw Jacqui standing there, watching them leave. He gave her the biggest smile he could, blew her a kiss, and then threw his middle finger in the air.

It was time to go play dead with Officer Friendly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope everyone is safe and healthy! Thank you so much for the comments on the last chapter. They really do keep me writing!  
> *  
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> The flashback is an 18 year old Merle coming home and Will offers him a job to start moving drugs for him. Merle had been planning to save some money and get him and Daryl out of the house. Merle finds an 8 year old Daryl hiding in a closet, bruised and scared. The temptation of drugs and money outweigh his need to protect Daryl and it becomes the first time Merle turns his back on Daryl.


	20. The Rider on the Pale Horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth's subconscious keep her up at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry this update took so long. I couldn't make this chapter do what I wanted it to and I kept rewriting it. Thank you so much to my beta SquishyCool for yelling at me everyday to get my butt in gear and get this chapter finished. There is a section dealing with a panic attack so fair warning if that's something you want to avoid, it happens just after the dream sequence in the beginning if you want to skip it. I'm going to try as hard as I can to get back on my regular posting schedule. Fingers crossed!

**The Rider on the Pale Horse**

_ She was back on the farm. At least she thought it was the farm. It had a strange fuzzy aura about it, but there was the house and the barn. She could hear the horses snorting and moving around in their stalls. _

_ The front door to the house flew open and her dad was there, but it was like some unseen presence was pushing him out the door, down the stairs, and onto the dirt drive. Forcing him down on his knees. Beth tried to call out to him, tried to tell him to run—to get up. The words caught in her throat and choked her. Her legs wouldn’t move and it felt like she had cement around her feet. Something was holding her back. A heavy pressure was pushing on her chest and it was getting harder and harder for her to breath. Her head was the only thing she could move and, glancing around, she could see two people near the barn. But it was like they were walking towards her in slow motion. _

_ They had to see her and Daddy. There was no one else around. Slowly, her brain focused and she recognized the two men… it was Rick and Daryl! They wouldn’t let anything happen to them, whatever was happening would stop. _

_ Her relief was short lived though, as they didn’t seem to see her. It was like they were looking right past her. A noise from where her dad had been forced down grabbed her attention. There was someone else with him now. His face was shadowed and he was talking lowly to Hershel. _

_ “Please, don’t, not in front of my daughters,” Hershel was begging the man. His plea was met with malicious laughter. _

_ The farm was suddenly lit up, like clouds had drifted and the moon was able to fully shine. Beth was able to make out the man’s face, or should she say faces. It was like he was sliding from one face to another. Each one causing a fresh wave of fear to wash over her. It took a few moments for her brain to catch up and understand what she was seeing; every villain that had haunted her dreams growing up. First it was Freddy Krueger, then the creepy clown, the red-headed doll, and on and on it went. Some faces repeated, while others were just gruesome to look at. Each time the face changed, she would hear a loud bang, and Daddy would fall to the ground. Then he was back up again to have the whole macabre scene play out over and over.  _

_ The heavy feeling was getting stronger and her lungs were barely filling with oxygen. She couldn't breathe, her vision was starting to waver and her heart was racing so fast it felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. _

_ Daddy hadn't gotten up after the last replay. The flickering man was nowhere to be seen either. Her spine tingled when she felt someone approaching from behind her. Then he spoke, and she knew his voice. She’d heard it at some point. It made her blood run cold. And then she could feel his breath against her ear, his lips brushing against the shell. _

_ "You’re next, sweetheart," he whispered. _

It was his words that jolted her out of the nightmare. Beth sat up, still unable to breathe, and she was covered in a cold sweat that made her want to crawl back under her blanket and go back to sleep. But if she did that, she would be back at the farm. Where he was waiting for her.

The tightening of her chest and the pounding in her head propelled her out of bed. She needed air. If she had fresh air, she might be able to breathe again. Her lungs might remember their job. Beth was sure she was going to die if she didn't get some air. She was down the stairs and out the door without another thought.

Gripping the railing on the front porch, she tried to take a deep breath, but everytime she tried it got more shallow. Her legs felt like jelly and she wasn't sure how long they would be able to hold her up. She was ready to just give in when her legs finally gave out, but a pair of strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close against a firm chest. 

Safe, she felt safe. Breathing was still difficult and her chest still felt like it was going to explode, but there was a sliver of safety to be found.

"Beth. C’mon girl, breathe. Yer okay. I gotcha. C’mon."

She knew that voice.  _ Daryl _ . He was here. He got to her, he kept her safe. 

He was slowly walking them back into the house and helped her sit down on the couch.

"Stay here, I'll be right back." He headed towards the kitchen and she heard the fridge open.

Why couldn't she catch her breath? Was she really dying? Is that what her dream meant? The " _ you’re next, sweetheart"?  _ Was it a warning? A promise?

Suddenly, Daryl was back, sitting on the coffee table right in front of her. His calloused hands were on her face, lifting gently so she was forced to look in his eyes. That blue—it felt like it was cutting through her. He let go of her face and grabbed both of her hands, but he never broke their gaze.

"Beth, can ya hear me? Just nod yer head if ya can." She slowly nodded, still not able to fill her lungs. "Good. Look around the room an’ tell me five things you can see."

She must have had a confused look on her face because he gently touched his forehead to hers.

"D'ya trust me?" She nodded again. "Alright, five things you can see."

"The TV… yer bed… a window." She ran out of breath quickly, but when she inhaled, it was slightly easier and she got a little more air this time. "The chair… my shoes."

"Good, tha's real good, Beth. Now tell me four things you can feel." Daryl was still so close. His hands were the only thing keeping her grounded.

"Yer hands. The wood under my feet… the fabric on the couch. The breeze comin' in the door." She was able to get the whole thing out at one time. Her heart felt like it was slowing down and the black dots were no longer dancing in her vision. 

"Three things you can hear." His grip on her hands tightened just a little. Like he was trying to tell her he was still there. Giving her the encouragement she needed. 

"I can hear… the crickets, and… an owl. I can hear you breathing." 

"Two things you can smell."

"The soap from the shower and pine trees."

"Last one Beth, tell me one thing ya can taste."

She almost blurted out the first thing that came to her mind… almost. Telling him she could still taste his kiss wouldn't help her. "Mint, like my toothpaste."

Whatever he had done, it worked. She was breathing normally again, her blood wasn't pounding through her veins, and she wasn't convinced she was going to die.

Beth smiled at him, gently tugging on his hands and silently asking him to sit next to her on the couch. He gave her one of his smirks and sat down on the couch, putting an arm around her and letting her lean in close to him. 

"Ya feelin' better now?" His hand tightened on her shoulder.

"Yeah. How did you know ta do that?" This man had worked some sort of magic on her.

"Used ta get panic attacks when I was younger. Just a trick I learned." 

"Oh." She had more questions, but she couldn't seem to get the words out.

Sleep was pulling her back down and the more she fought it, the harder it pulled. Daryl was like her own personal sleep aid. 

* * *

The next time she woke up, the sun was streaming through the windows and she could smell coffee. She was still on the couch, but Daryl was gone and there was a pillow under her head and a light blanket covering her. Her head felt like she had another hangover. Daryl had told her it was a panic attack, but usually when something hit her like that, she just shut down. Last night though, it was like her brain wanted her to relive her daddy’s death over and over just to make some kind of cruel point in her head.

What was it trying to tell her? That she was going to spend the rest of her life never knowing who killed her father? Was he always going to be faceless, or like the horror movie villains that used to haunt her dreams? No, that wasn’t going to happen. There was no way she would just let this go and not find the people behind the murders. Daryl deserved that closure as well. He didn't have much of anything to say about the people that were killed at the junkyard besides his dad and brother, but he had to want some sort of closure just as badly as she did. 

Beth sat up, wiping a hand across her face and willing herself to wake all the way up. Glancing over at the kitchen, she saw Daryl was standing there drinking a cup of coffee. He gave her a small smile and pointed to another cup on the island. That was definitely something she needed right now. 

The coffee did wonders for her head. The headache that had been slowly building eased up a bit and she began to feel a little more human. 

“Let’s get outta this cabin fer a bit,” Daryl suggested, nodding his head towards the back window and the large pond that was out there. “Ozzy said the pond’s stocked. Could try an’ catch some dinner.”

Sunshine and fresh air sounded like the perfect thing to clear the remaining strands of the night before. 

“That sounds perfect, let me change.” She wanted to ask him more questions about how he knew how to calm her down last night, but this didn’t feel like the time. Maybe being outside would give her the chance.

Daryl seemed like the kind of guy that thrived on being out in the open. He had mentioned that he liked to hunt, and he had that crossbow. He’d been stuck inside with her most of the time since they’d met. Maybe getting to see him in his element would give her a better idea about him. The last time they’d been out, she hadn’t really paid much attention to him. But that probably had a lot to do with the fact that they were dropping off the body of her boyfriend to be eaten by pigs. 

She was halfway up the stairs when she heard him call her name. She stopped and glanced back at him from over her shoulder.

“Put some sunscreen on, yer whiter than hell and we don’t wanna be dealin’ with a sunburn tonight.” Apparently he thought he was funny, because he followed that up with a laugh she hadn’t heard out of him thus far.

“Back to bein’ my chaperone, Mr. Dixon?” She teased.

Daryl just pointed up the stairs. She rolled her eyes and climbed the rest of the way up to her room.

* * *

They spent most of the day fishing, walking around the pond, and generally sitting outside and enjoying the perfect weather. The silent moments between them weren’t uncomfortable, it just seemed like that’s how it should be. For the last hour, they’d been sitting on the bank, watching the fish jump out of the water trying to catch the insects that flew too close to the surface. Birds she’d never seen before flew over their heads and at one point, a doe and her fawn had walked up to the far edge of the pond to eat the grass and get a drink.

Beth had been right, Daryl was more comfortable out here. His shoulders were relaxed and his entire demeanor was content and comfortable. She hated to burst the peaceful bubble they had around them, but she wanted to ask him a few questions.

“I know you said ya had panic attacks when you were younger. Did someone teach ya how to do that whole countdown thing?” It seemed like the easiest place to start, but she saw his shoulders tense a little.

“Had a guidance counselor in school before I dropped out,” he muttered. “She found me outside the school one day. Couldn’t breathe, was sure that my lungs wasn’t workin’ and I was dyin’. She taught me how to ground myself. ‘S just forcin’ yer brain to think about somethin’ other than what set ya off.” He shrugged his shoulders and went back to staring at the water.

“I was dreamin’ about my dad,” she admitted softly. “I kept watchin’ him die over an’ over. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t move. I tried to yell, but the words choked me. You and Rick were there, but ya couldn’t see us. I’m afraid that’s how it’s always gonna be. Replayin’ Daddy’s death and never seeing the right face.” She wasn’t sure why she left out the part about the man whispering in her ear, but they both knew that she was the next target. No need to bring that back up again.

“Figured that’s what was goin’ on. Heard ya yellin’ up there. Was on my way up to check on ya when ya went tearin’ outta the cabin. Saw how hard you were tryin’ to breathe and ya had yer hand over yer heart. I knew what was goin’ on.”

He didn’t miss a thing, did he? She wasn’t able to yell in her dream, but she must have been just fine in the real world. 

“What used to cause yer panic attacks?” Beth watched as his eyes and face took on another quality she couldn’t properly identify… fear? Then he fixed his features and it was like a mask was put on. He had shut down.

“Nothin’ ya need ta worry about,” he said. “C’mon, we didn’t catch any dinner so we need to make somethin’.” He stood up and headed off towards the cabin without waiting for her.

It was the first time she’d been behind him all day and she finally noticed that there was something on the back of the leather vest he’d thrown over the sleeveless black shirt he was wearing that day. Wings. They had been white at some point, but they were dingy now and a little frayed around the seams. Time, life, and probably a whole lot of other things were coated onto those wings. Seeing them walk away from her, she was again taken back to that verse from Revelations.  _ The Angel of Death.  _ That’s how she always interpreted it: an avenging angel riding on the back of a pale horse.

Maybe that’s what Daryl was in her life: a rough-around-the-edges avenging angel with a tarnished halo. Her  _ guardian  _ avenging angel.

So lost in her thoughts about Daryl being an angel and so focused on the back of his vest, Beth wasn’t paying attention to the ground in front of her. There was a root and her right foot got caught. She could feel gravity pulling her down and she tried to turn her body to avoid a rock that was in front of her. The ground would still hurt, but probably less than face-planting into a rock. Daryl stopped and turned around faster than she thought any person could. She didn't remember calling out, but she must have because he was at her side in a second, gently removing her foot from under the root. 

“Ya okay? Can ya move it?” His hands were gently prodding her ankle and pain was shooting up her leg. Beth tried to keep her face passive, but she wasn’t successful judging by his face. “C’mon, let’s get ya back to the cabin and take a look at it.”

“It’s just a sprain, Daryl,” she insisted. “Ice and some elevation and I’ll be fine.” She’d treated more sprained ankles than she could count when she’d worked in the ER. It wasn’t broken, she could move the foot, but it hurt like a bitch. Daryl helped her stand up and she took a tentative step towards him. If he hadn’t been standing right there, she would once again be on the ground.

Okay, yeah, her ankle hurt more than a little.

“Ya gonna keep pretendin’ it’s not so bad or ya gonna drop the fuckin’ act and let me help ya?” He scolded.

Well, shit. She threw her hands out to the side in a sign of surrender. Daryl had turned his back to her and bent his knees. He looked over his shoulder at her like she should know what the hell he was doing. “Hop on. Unless ya wanna stay out here all night.”

She almost laughed. “Are you serious? A piggyback?” Was he really suggesting he give her a piggyback ride up to the cabin? 

“Ya, it’s a serious piggyback,” he said, straight-faced and intent. “Let’s go.”

It was looking like she didn’t have much of a choice, so she stepped forward and then grabbed his shoulders. He locked his arms under her knees and stood up. 

“Damn girl, yer heavier than ya look.” If she hadn’t heard that slight teasing note in his voice, she might’ve been offended.

Daryl got them to the cabin quickly and sat her down on the island counter. He turned around and gave her a look that she interpreted to mean for her to stay put. She didn't have much of a choice because hopping down would hurt just as much as trying to walk.

She gave him her best smile and nodded her head. “I won't move, Mr. Dixon. Promise.” She hadn’t meant to bat her eyelashes at him the way she did, but it just happened. Beth didn’t miss the way his ears turned pink and how fast he took off towards the bathroom.

Was she flirting with Daryl? She’d finally realized that she was attracted to him. It wasn’t just hero worship either. She enjoyed spending time with him. He could make her laugh, he could comfort her, and she felt completely safe with him. A feeling she’d never had with Gareth. She’d always been on edge with him. Never feeling like she was good enough, like she was being constantly judged. Daryl wouldn’t judge her. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she was absolute on the fact.

Beth was still lost in her head when Daryl came out of the bathroom. He had a pill bottle and an ACE bandage wrap. Instead of coming to where Beth was still perched on the counter, he set the items on the coffee table and came over to where she was sitting. He wrapped one of her arms around his neck and slid the other under her knees and she was swept off the counter and promptly placed on the couch.

Daryl answered her question before she could even open her mouth: “Woulda taken ya too long ta hobble over here, an’ we need ta get that wrapped.” Was her face that easy to read?

Her back was against the arm of the couch and both of her legs were straight out in front of her, the bad leg resting gently on Daryl’s thigh. He was gently untying her shoe and removing it slowly, doing everything in his power to not jar her ankle more than he had to. When he pulled her sock off, Beth could see that her ankle was already twice its normal size and a very unflattering shade of purple. That was going to be sore for a while.

Fuck. Who gets so wrapped up in their thoughts that they don’t pay attention to where they’re walking and end up getting their ass kicked by a root? Beth Greene, that’s who.

She was shaking her head and laughing to herself, catching his attention. “Wha’?” it was more of a grunted question than words, but she got the gist. 

“If Maggie was here, she’d say, ‘That’s Bethy for ya. So lost in her own head she can’t remember ta stay on her feet.’ I’m not the most… graceful.” She could feel her cheeks heating up.

“What were ya lost in yer head about?” He asked.

Nope, not gonna answer that one for him. She could only imagine the embarrassment of telling him that she’d been daydreaming about him being her own personal angel. 

“Umm, I was just thinkin’ about how I don’t wanna be defined by this whole situation like I have been the past few years by my scar.” The words flew out of her mouth before she could even think about it. Well, better than telling him that she thought he was a divine being. Daryl had managed to wrap her ankle nice and tight while they’d been talking and he was trying to gently extract himself from underneath her. He slipped one of the throw pillows under her ankle to keep it elevated. 

She went on, “I’m worried… I’m afraid that my dream is tellin’ me that I’m never gonna know what really happened to my dad. We’ll never have answers to why this happened and nobody will have to pay for destroying both of our families.” It was easier to tell all of that to his back as he was messing around in the kitchen.

She was once again wishing for Maggie or Mama. Someone she could talk to. Beth wanted to cry and break down in someone’s arms and have them gently run their fingers through her hair and tell her that she was going to be okay and that everything would work itself out. She wasn’t that naive anymore, though. She’d had more things in her life teach her that the world isn’t all rainbows and unicorns. Nonetheless, for just one moment, it would be nice to go back to that time. 

Daryl was back, sitting next to her left hip and barely perched on the couch himself. He held two white pills out to her along with a bottle of water. “Percocet. Found ‘em in the first aid box. Ya don’t need ta be in pain tonight an’ maybe they’ll help ya sleep.”

“I should probably eat…” Before she could finish her sentence he was holding out an apple and a few saltine crackers. A knowing smile flitted across his face. 

“Thank you.”

It seemed like he knew every trick in the first aid handbook. He placed a towel wrapped bundle on her ankle and after the immediate jolt of pain, the relief from the ice let her relax a bit into the couch. She made short work of the food and took the pills. All under Daryl’s watchful eye. 

“Ya want me to take ya upstairs, or ya wanna stay down here?” The thought of being upstairs on her own if she had another nightmare—or, shit, it she had to go to the bathroom. She wouldn’t be able to make it down the stairs on her own. 

“Um, I’d like ta stay down here if ya don’t mind. I don’t wanna think of the accident I’d be in if I tried to get up and down the stairs in the middle of the night.” She left out the part about how she was thinking she’d rather be closer to him, as well. His presence was so calming to her lately. 

“Alrigh’, whatcha need from upstairs? I’ll go grab it and then we’ll get ya settled in the bed. I’ll take the couch tonight.” Why did that make her feel a little hollow? She was just going to blame the pain pills for anything stupid she said or thought for the rest of the night. 

“My pajamas are on the bed. That’s all I need, everything else is in the bathroom.” He nodded his head and headed up the stairs, coming back down just as quickly. He helped her hobble to the bathroom, her ankle easier to move on now that it was wrapped so well. It took longer than normal for her to get changed and her teeth brushed and face washed, but she finally made it. The percocet was kicking in and she was beginning to feel like she was getting a bit… floaty. That was the best word for it, she decided. 

Daryl was waiting right by the door and let her lean against him as he led her to the bed he’d been sleeping in. He’d brought down the pillow she’d been using. She turned to smile at him, wanting to acknowledge the little things he did for her all the time. He helped her into the bed and situated her so she was comfortable on the pillows. The throw pillow from the couch was already towards the foot of the bed so she could keep her ankle up. 

“Daryl, will you stay here… just until I fall asleep?” She asked softly.

He gave her a quick nod and then settled on the other side. Hands clasped behind his head while he stared up at the wood beams that made up the ceiling. 

“We’re not defined by our scars, Beth. The only person that can do that is you. If ya wanna have that scar on yer wrist define you, then that’s your choice. But the woman I’ve gotten ta know the past few days… that scar ain’t nothin’ but a story. A story that shows yer will ta live. Define yerself however ya want.”

She didn’t know how to answer him. This man was so full of surprises, and the depth of the things he said always caught her off-guard.

She was slowly being pulled down into the drug-induced sleep, but her last thought was that she was going to remind Daryl what a good man he was everyday. She wasn’t certain, but the way he had just talked about her scars made her think that there were some scars that he thought defined him. She was going to prove to him that wasn’t true. If it was the last thing she did, she’d find a way to prove that to him everyday that they were stuck together in this crazy curveball life had thrown their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and to everyone that has left comments thank you! They make my day better every time I get a new one.


	21. Scars and Hang Ups

**Scars and Hang Ups**

Daryl was too hot, which was something he hated. Being too hot meant something was too close to him. He opened his eyes and realized that the reason for the heat was his own damn fault.

He hadn’t planned to sleep in his bed. He was going to wait until she fell asleep and then move to the couch, but his body had other ideas because now he was wrapped around Beth Greene. She was sleeping soundly on her back, ankle still propped on the pillow, but he’d turned over and draped himself over her at some point. Fuck, what the hell was he letting himself do with this girl?

He was supposed to protect her, not get handsy with her in the middle of the night while she was unconscious on pain pills. He could hear Merle in his head, “ _ Once a Dixon, always a Dixon.” _

A quiet knock on the door saved him from following those thoughts down the path they always seemed to lead.

As gently as he could, he got out of the bed and padded on socked feet over to the door. He knew it had to be Ozzy before he even got there. That man was starting to become a fixture around here. Him and his unsolicited advice about fireflies and the best place to watch said “romantic” sight.

Daryl opened the door as quietly as he could, trying not to disturb Beth, and slipped out onto the front porch. There was still a bit of a chill to the morning air. Being up in the mountains guaranteed that the evenings and mornings would be cool and refreshing. Spending the day outside yesterday was something he had needed. And being with Beth made it so much better. He enjoyed her quiet company as much as he liked hearing her stories. He didn’t let his guard down around many people anymore, but she was someone that he could.

Standing on the porch, he was taken back to the night before last. When he’d heard Beth yelling and calling out her daddy’s name and then his own, he’d been out of bed and ready to run up the stairs, but she beat him to it and came running down the stairs. She hadn’t stopped until she hit the railing of the porch. If that wooden barrier hadn’t been there, she might have run all the way to Ozzy’s. Daryl had seen signs that he knew too well. She couldn’t breathe, and the way that she had her hand to her chest, he was willing to bet it was pounding harder than it ever had in her life. A panic attack. Those he knew better than he would like to. The grounding exercise Miss Baker had taught him all those years ago popped into his head like he’d just been taught yesterday. If he knew how to reach that lady, he would send her a damn thank you note. Because it worked on Beth just like it had on him. Changing the direction of her thoughts and forcing her to bring herself back to the present. If he could find the people responsible for Hershel’s death, he would kill them himself for the pain that this had brought her.

“The wife still sleepin?” Ozzy… yep, he was still out there.

Daryl was slipping. He never let his guard down when someone else was around. That’s how you ended up bleeding on the floor, which was a lesson he’d learned from a very young age.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied. “Yeah, she is. Went down ta the pond yesterday and on the way back, she tripped on a root and hurt her ankle. Gave her some’a the pain pills in the bathroom.” He was starting to worry about himself because it was becoming normal to hear Ozzy call Beth his wife. He was going to have to correct the man at some point. Maybe as they were leaving, to save them from having to see his reaction.

“Well, just wanted ta let ya know I’m down at the ranger station all day,” Ozzy explained. “I’ve sent some emails and told the other rangers I’ve talked to that there’s a large herd of aggressive and most likely very violent pigs up in this area. Should keep people away, might even get some of the trails shut down. I also stopped at the post office last night. There was a package for a William Hershel in there… now I know that’s Beth’s daddy’s name, so I was thinkin’ this might be for one of you. It’s from Carl Walsh?”

That had to be from Rick. He wouldn’t risk putting his or Beth’s name on a package, so he’d used their fathers’ names instead. Using Carl Walsh must mean that he didn’t want it connected back to him.

“Yeah, that’d be from the sheriff we’ve been workin’ with.” Daryl held out his hand for the medium-sized box. It wasn’t heavy, but it did rattle around a bit when he stuck it under his arm. What in the hell would Rick be sending them that required this cloak and dagger routine?

“Tell the li’l lady I hope she gets ta feelin’ better,” Ozzy said. “I’ll stop by when my shift’s done an’ see if ya need anythin’.” Daryl just nodded his head and walked back in the house.

He set the box on the island, already having decided that he would wait for Beth to wake up before he opened it. She hadn’t eaten much last night, so he could make something. He remembered her buying some of those frozen biscuits in a bag and some packaged white gravy. He could throw that together. First though, he needed a shower. Stopping next to the bed to make sure that Beth was still sound asleep, he grabbed some clothes and headed into the bathroom.

Daryl dropped his clothes at the edge of the bathtub and went to mess with the dials on the shower. This shower was bigger than the closet-sized bedroom he’d lived in after their house had burned down. He looked around for a towel and found them on the counter, the covering that Beth had told him he needed to wear in the shower over his stitches was next to them. He figured she must be putting a new one out for him after every shower.

Her patients had to be some lucky sons of bitches. It would have been nice to have a nurse like her looking out for him when he was growing up. Maybe things would have been a little bit different. Thinking about that drew his thoughts to his back. He didn't need to look in the mirror to see them. He’d already memorized every slash on his back. He saw them every time he closed his eyes. 

He’d lied when he told her that you didn’t have to let your scars define you, because… fuck, he’d been letting his define him all his life. He could hide his scars better than she could. Those scars held him back so often. He’d become withdrawn in life, and then he’d become angry. When his temper snapped, he was a deadly motherfucker. And his brother and old man always loved when that side of him came out. That’s how his dad kept him under his thumb for so long. Will would rile him up and tell him that he had no problem adding to his “masterpiece”—anything he could say to set Daryl off. And it worked. It wasn’t until Rick offered to help him and then helped him with his brother that he realized he didn’t have to be defined by his anger. But he was still defined by those scars. He’d never had a healthy relationship. He didn’t want a woman in his life to see his back and realize it was something they couldn’t handle. He’d had one girlfriend that he’d let see the scars. She’d refused to touch him again after that. Almost like they were contagious. That’s when he’d started scratching that itch only occasionally, and all of his hook-ups were in a dark alley, in the back of his truck, or back at her place, and he always made sure to get the hell out as soon as he was done.

So yeah, he was a liar. Because his scars had dictated his whole life up until this point.

Beth didn’t ever need to see the pain and anger that had been inflicted on his skin from his old man. She was a sweet girl, her daddy had probably never raised a hand to her or her siblings. She didn’t know what it was like to go days without food. To sleep on dirty rags in a closet because it was the only place in the trailer that had a lock—and it sure as shit didn’t stop Will, but it did slow him down. Daryl was happy that she never had to know that kind of life.

Except, she was suffering now. It wasn’t fair what life was doing to her. His job might only be to keep her safe, but he was making it his mission to help her get justice. She deserved that, at the very least. 

He shook the hair out of his eyes and carefully laid the bandage over his wound so he could wash his hair, and hopefully wash the train of thoughts he’d just had down the drain.

The shower did wonders for him. He decided that if he ever came into some money, he was definitely buying one of those shower heads. He’d thrown on his worn plaid shirt that he’d ripped the sleeves off of years ago and the last clean pair of jeans he still had. Would have to do laundry today. Beth probably needed some clean clothes too, and he wasn’t letting her move off that couch today once she was awake. She needed to let her ankle heal.

She was still sleeping when he walked back into the main room and headed towards the kitchen. He turned the oven on to preheat and started a pot of coffee. He was pretty sure that he’d seen a package of breakfast sausage in the fridge, which would be perfect to go in the gravy. If he could keep her asleep until he was done, he’d find a way to set up breakfast in bed for her.

“ _ Pussy-whipped little bitch yer turnin’ into, Darylina.” _

Merle. Of course, even in death, he had to annoy the shit out of Daryl. Maybe if something as good as Beth Greene had ever walked into Merle’s life, he’d be thinking about breakfast in bed, too.

Well, probably not. Merle would have a whole different idea of what  _ breakfast in bed  _ would entail.

Of course, Beth chose that moment to make a small noise that sounded just like a breathy moan. And now Daryl was picturing her making those noises while he was waking her up with a little breakfast in bed between her thighs.

Nope. Stop acting like a dirty pervert. Girls like that wouldn’t touch damaged rednecks like him. Yeah, she’d kissed him, but that was adrenaline fueled and she hadn’t been in her right mind at that point. Best to keep all those thoughts as far away as possible.

The oven beeped, telling him it was hot, and he found a baking sheet under the oven. He threw the frozen biscuits on and put them in the oven. The frying pan he’d used the other day was still on the towel Beth had left it on to dry, and he set on one of the burners and tossed the package of sausage in to start browning. He’d never made gravy from a little envelope before, so he turned it over on the counter and got the few things he needed to make it laid out. He’d do that last, as soon as the biscuits and sausage were done. 

He’d just finished throwing everything together and had found a large tray in one of the cabinets and plated up Beth’s breakfast, adding a cup of coffee, when he heard her trying to sit up.

“Hey, don’t move,” he instructed. “Not tryin’ to keep carryin’ your broken ass all over.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and then laughed when she saw him smiling at her. 

“Well, if ya don’t help me ta the bathroom then yer gonna have to clean the sheets, ‘cause I’m gonna pee on yer bed!” She raised one eyebrow at him and the look on his face must have been funny, because she was laughing harder than he’d ever heard her.

“Well come on, stop laughin’, ain't’ nobody peein’ on my bed.” Daryl got an arm around her shoulder and let her use him as support to limp to the bathroom. 

He waited outside the door for her, wondering how long it took one person to use the bathroom, but when she finally came out her face was still slightly damp from being washed and her hair had been let down out of her ponytail and brushed into a long golden veil around her head.

“Back in bed, ya need ta rest today.”

“Yeah, but I smell food!” She looked toward the kitchen with hope in her eyes and her stomach took that moment to growl loudly.

“There’s food, an’ if ya get yer ass back in bed, I’ll bring it to ya.” Her face lit up at that idea and he steered her towards the bed. Once she was settled on the edge, he pushed a few pillows against the headboard and helped her settle back against them, propping her ankle back up on the pillow before he headed back to the kitchen. He added some silverware and napkins to the tray before carrying it to her.

“Daryl! This looks amazin’!” She exclaimed, beaming at the sight of the food. “I love biscuits and gravy. And breakfast in bed… who knew you were so smooth!” He just rolled his eyes at her and went to the kitchen to make himself a plate.

“Ya better be joinin’ me, Daryl Dixon,” she called after him. “Don’t make me have breakfast in bed alone. It’s bad manners!”

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. She was really going to kill him.

Well, who was he to tell her no? Like she said, it was bad manners. And he was trying to learn some.

* * *

They finished their breakfast and Daryl cleaned up the kitchen after moving Beth to the couch and making sure she had her journal and a cheesy movie to watch. The package from Rick was still on the counter. He knew he needed to show it to Beth and open it, but it would be nice to have a little warning about what was waiting inside. Rick had basically sent him Pandora’s Box.

There wasn’t any reason for him to keep it from her, so he grabbed it along with two cans of Coke and sat everything down on the table in front of her. 

“What’s that?” She asked, putting her pen in between the pages of her journal and setting it down beside her.

“Dunno. Ozzy dropped it off this morning. From Rick.” He was chewing the side of his thumbnail for something to do other than look at her. She was sitting there in her little sleep shorts and all he could see was leg. Leading right next to him where her bad ankle was propped up on the pillow next to where he’d sat down.

Beth bent towards the box and pulled it into her lap, lifting her legs in the air and patting the couch next to her. “Come on, you can be my pillow an’ we can open this together.” Maybe this was how Merle was going to fuck with him from the grave. “Hurry! I can keep my legs up fer a bit, but not forever!” Yep, this was Merle, he thought as he slid closer to her and helped her position her legs in his lap. Grabbing his pocket knife, he took the box from her and sliced through the tape before handing it back to her.

“Must’ve been important. Sent it overnight,” he grunted at her.

Inside the box were two large manilla envelopes, a letter, and two smaller boxes. “What the fuck…” Daryl glanced at the items strewn between them. “Couldn’t he at least make things easy?”

“Maybe we should read the note, Daryl,” Beth suggested. “Ya know, like a normal person would?” She rolled those blue eyes at him and ripped the envelope open, pulling out a single piece of paper.

Daryl recognized the Sheriff’s chicken scratch from all the times he’d seen it on Merle’s court summons:

_ Use these phones. They should get service up on that mountain and they’re untraceable courtesy of Hershel’s mulleted friend. Surveillance photos are from the stakeout at Carol’s Motel. You might recognize someone, Daryl. I’ve sent all my notes on the night of the attacks. Crime scene photos, evidence logs, and anything else that was collected at both scenes. DON’T LOSE THEM. _

_ Stay on the mountain until you hear from me. And please—and I cannot stress this enough through a letter…  _

_ DON’T KILL ANYONE ELSE! _

_ Keep your phones on you, I will contact you soon.  _

_ Rick _

“Mulleted friend?” Daryl asked as he opened one of the cardboard boxes and a phone that looked a lot like his old one slid out, along with a charger. Masking tape covered the screen with what he assumed was the phone number written on it. Where the hell was the area code for 918?

“Yeah, Eugene. He’s the tech genius that works fer my dad,” Beth said. Then she quickly corrected herself, “I mean…  _ worked _ .” Tears filled her eyes, but she shook her head and swallowed hard and went back to the two envelopes on her lap. 

Daryl was opening the other box. The second phone looked the exact same as the other one, but this one had an area code of 907. If they were from the tech guy, they probably actually were untraceable, so maybe they wouldn’t have to venture down to Ozzy’s cabin everytime they needed to get some information. And with Beth planning to take over the mob world, it would be nice to have access to the internet without making a twenty minute trip. He handed the phone to Beth, who immediately connected the charger and plugged one end into the USB port that was on the lamp next to her.

When the fuck did they start putting those in lamps? He was getting too old for all of this.

“Which one do we wanna take on first? Photos or the report?” He asked. Though he had a feeling he knew which one she would choose. Nonetheless, this needed to be her choice.

“Photos. I dunno if I’ll ever be able to read the report.” She handed the envelope to Daryl and he ripped it open.

He pulled out six 8x10 photos that had been taken over the past few days. Every picture had the same two men sitting in a black SUV, watching the front door of the motel. Daryl wasn’t sure, but the driver looked somewhat familiar to him. Receding dark hair slicked back, and a very impressive mustache. Maybe he’d been by the junkyard at some point. He was always in the driver’s seat of every photo. Clothes changed, so it looked like three different days. The passenger, however… That was someone Daryl definitely knew.

“Son of a fucking bitch, I knew that asshole was up to something.” Daryl tossed the pictures between them.

The only reason those two would be at the motel would be to wait for him. Beth’s plan had worked and they had faces for two of the people responsible for the massacres. Unfortunately, Daryl used to consider one of those faces a good friend. 

“What?” Beth asked, looking to him in concern. “Daryl! Yer shakin’. Who’s in the picture?” She grabbed them up and began studying them, then she let out a small gasp. “Burns on the left side of his face… that’s Dwight, isn’t it? The guy my dad told me to reach out to. He’s workin’ with the people that killed our families?”

All Daryl could do was nod his head, He knew Dwight had changed, but why would Hershel tell Beth to trust him and reach out to him if something happened? That would be like leading the lamb to the slaughter. 

“Daryl? Can you run upstairs and get the letter my dad left me?” Her voice sounded almost clinical at this point. She’d already started to move her legs off of his. “It’s on the dresser”

He jogged up the stairs and grabbed the letter, settling back in next to Beth and putting her bad leg back across his lap. He saw the grimace cross her face and remembered that he’d sat the pain pills on the coffee table. Shaking two into his palm and opening one of the cans of Coke, he handed them to her. Beth gave him a small but grateful smile. He didn’t notice until now the dark circles under her eyes, and that she seemed paler than usual. He would make sure that she got a decent night’s sleep tonight. That was at least something he could do right for her.

Beth was unfolding Hershel’s letter when Daryl unconsciously started to knead her sprained ankle. Her eyes closed gently and she let out a small noise. “Daryl, that feels amazin’.”

He hadn’t even noticed what he was doing, but stopped immediately, feeling the heat creep up his neck. 

“No, don’t stop,” she whined.

Hell, that wasn’t helping the blood rushing to certain places. Even with the blush spreading across his face, he grasped her ankle again and dug his thumbs in as carefully as he could.

“My dad told me to reach out to four people if something happened to him,” she explained. “Rick, Reg Monroe, Dwight, and Aaron. We know that Reg is dead and apparently, Dwight can’t be trusted. That leaves me only one name.”

“Yeah, a name ya don’t know if you can trust,” Daryl said. “The only person on that list we know anythin’ bout is Rick.” He was starting to understand where Beth’s mind was going and he was already sure that he wasn’t going to like it one bit, but he’d told her that he’d follow her lead.

“The phones are untraceable. If it sounds bad, we never call back,” Beth pleaded with him. “Daryl, this might be the only way we’re gonna get any leads that make sense.”

“You can look at them reports. Maybe somethin’ll stick out there.” He knew it was a stupid suggestion before it even came out of his mouth.

“Daryl, I can’t see my home like that. I can’t see my daddy layin’ dead on the ground. Maybe one day, I will be able to. But no. I can’t right now.” Daryl couldn’t blame her, he didn’t want to see what had happened to his brother right now either.

Fine, why not jump into the fire covered in gasoline?

“Call him,” he muttered. “Don’t give any information ‘cept yer name. Keep it on speaker so I can hear it, too.” She nodded at him, her blue eyes wide.

The phones must have been charged before they were shipped because Beth’s was full when she unplugged it. She dialed the number, put the phone on speaker and set it between them. The phone rang five times before a deep male voice answered.

“This is Aaron.”

Beth audibly swallowed and squeezed her eyes tight and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“Hello, is anyone there?”

“H-hi, this is Beth Greene. I think you knew my dad.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then the voice took on a commanding tone.

“Don’t call this number again.”

Beth and Daryl stared at each other in shock as the line went dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this means we are back on a normalish posting schedule. Thank you for all the comments! Stay safe everyone!


	22. The Road Map of Our Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth discovers one of Daryl's secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. This isn't as long as some of my chapters, but I hope what it lacks in length it makes up in content. Thanks as always to my beta [SquishyCool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquishyCool) if you haven't checked out all of her works... what have you been doing???? The next chapter will be from Rick's POV and bring in a few characters I love! Merle will also be making an appearance! Thank you so much for all of your continued support.

**The Road Map of Our Life**

"Well… I guess that's the end of the list. Daddy wanted me ta trust a dead man, someone workin’ for the other side, and… someone… very rude!"

Beth knew that sounded petulant, but it's how she felt. In her mind, she'd been left a treasure map that would lead her to vengeance or something that would bring peace. But, no. All she got was more questions. The only person she truly had on her side was sitting on the couch with her, and she was only ninety percent convinced of that fact. 

She shouldn't have doubts about Daryl at this point, but she'd been fooled too many times now. Beth was starting to think that the only person she could truly trust in was herself. There was no doubt in her mind that Daryl would protect her. He’d proven that time and time again already. But what happened when something came up that meant he had to turn against someone he knew to stay on her side? Someone he’d known much longer than he’d known her? What if some random family member showed up and he had to choose?

He would most likely choose his blood over the weak little girl he’d been stuck with against his will. 

“Ya had that letter fer over a year,” Daryl said. “No way yer pops knew that Monroe was dead, or that Dwight was a fuckin’ bitch, or that whoever this Aaron guy is would be a dick an’ hang up on ya.” His blue eyes locked on hers.

_ Damn,  _ she was the bitch here. Why did she doubt him every time something upset her? She needed to start trusting him; it was probably the only thing that would save her life at this point. 

Beth was afraid to open her mouth, because she would probably just start crying again. She didn’t know much about Daryl, but she knew tears seemed to scare him… that was probably the only thing in the world that scared him. And admittedly, that thought made her laugh. 

Daryl’s gaze turned confused and he cocked his head to the side, most likely trying to figure out what was going on in her head. She’d just gone from tears to laughter, and she was even wondering about her own sanity at the moment. 

“Sorry, I was just thinkin’ that nothin’ prol’ly scares you ‘cept a cryin’ girl!” That earned her a half-smile.

“I ain’t afraid of nothin’, girl. Not even yer tears.” Daryl gave her one of his full smiles, one that she’d only seen maybe once or twice since she’d known him. The one that gave her the butterflies in her stomach.

She didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, because he was hopping off the couch and gathering up their plates, then he was heading to the kitchen to clean up the mess from breakfast. The running water coming from the kitchen set off something in her brain and went straight to her bladder. With a groan, she pushed herself to a sitting position and was able to stand up and get her balance on her one good ankle. She glanced over her shoulder to see Daryl starting around the counter towards her. But she quickly waved him off with a smile.

“I gotta make it ta the bathroom on my own at some point,” she insisted.

Slowly limping to the bathroom, Beth let her mind wander to the short conversation she’d had with Aaron. His voice had changed so much in the few seconds between answering the phone and telling her not to call again. Maybe she was judging him too harshly. She’d done the same thing with her voice at times. Most of the time, it was when she was talking to Daddy or Maggie and Gareth had walked in the room. Aaron hadn’t been expecting her call, that much was obvious, but maybe there was something else there that she hadn’t thought of. 

It didn’t matter now. She was gonna do exactly what he’d asked. She wouldn’t be calling him again. This was just another detour. If she wanted to know what really happened to her and Daryl’s families, she was going to have to do it without outside help. She was going to have to rely on what she and Daryl came up with and found.

That meant they needed to seriously start thinking about that trip up to Boston. Rick had been adamant about them staying put, but what was he going to do? Come up here and arrest them after he had worked so hard just to get Beth out of town?

She’d been on autopilot and was already in front of the sink washing her hands when she risked a look in the mirror. The bruises on her face had faded to the sickly green and yellow that meant they were almost gone. She reminded herself to check on Daryl’s cut when she got back out there. The last thing they needed was him getting an infection. 

Since she was alone, she tried to put a little weight on her sprained ankle and immediately regretted it. Sure it was better, but she wouldn’t want to be running for her life on it anytime soon. Daryl wasn’t within sight when she hobbled back to the living room, but she could see the small clouds of smoke coming from the front porch. He'd left her a bottle of water, two pain pills, and an ice pack on the pillow he’d positioned on the couch right where her ankle would be.

That gruff exterior… Daryl Dixon was quite possibly the most thoughtful man she’d ever met. It would be a bad idea to tell him that, but he couldn’t stop her from thinking it. 

Beth was trying to get herself settled on the couch when the front door opened and Daryl strode back in. “Take those,” he grunted, pointing to the pills on the coffee table. “Need to stay on top of the pain.”

“Back to Mr. Dixon, chaperone extraordinaire, I see,” she teased. Not wanting to see the look he was giving her, Beth ducked her head and grabbed the pills and the water, swallowing them down.

She barely stifled her laughter when she heard him muttering under his breath something about “ _ pain in the ass women.” _

* * *

“MOTHERFUCKER!”

Beth was jolted out of her medicated sleep by Daryl’s yelling. She hadn’t even been aware of falling asleep. She’d been facing towards Daryl’s bed so she could talk to him while he worked on sharpening his knives. She still wasn’t sure why he’d been sharpening his knives, but with Daryl, sometimes it was best to just not ask questions.

Her eyes barely had time to focus on the sight in front of her. Daryl was jumping off the end of the bed and wrapping the red rag that was always close to him around his hand. Blood covered the front of the shirt that he’d been wearing, and it seemed like he noticed it at the same time that Beth did. He must not have noticed that she was awake though, because he yanked the shirt off and turned around to find another. She wished she could have contained the gasp that left her mouth—it would have saved them both a lot of anger, arguing, and stress.

It was simply a visceral reaction to seeing the angry red and purple welts that criss-crossed his back. Some were raised, like they’d been opened and healed over and over again. Beth had only seen them for a few seconds before he whirled around, a look of absolute rage on his face when he realized she was awake and staring at him.

“Don’t!” He immediately snapped. “Just don’t fuckin’ start. I don’t need your perfect life pity. A’right?”

She wasn’t even sure where this sudden rage was coming from. She hadn’t planned on saying anything to him. Then she realized, he must have this defensive trigger ingrained in him from years of seeing and hearing it. Pity wasn’t the emotion she was feeling for him, though. Anger, a burning desire to hurt the person that hurt him, and understanding… Understanding was the most prevalent right now. Why he shied away from people. His anger towards his family, who Beth strongly suspected were responsible for the marks on his back.

Yet at the same time, she was starting to feel some anger towards Daryl, as well. How he assumed she was going to say something to show him pity. How he expected that she would automatically try and coddle him. As though he hadn’t spent the last few days getting to know her.

So she lashed back angrily, “Don’t YOU even fuckin’ start with ME, Daryl Dixon! I hadn’t planned on sayin’ one goddamn word. I apologize fer havin’ a normal human reaction to being rudely shocked out of sleep by you yellin’ and then seein’ that. I’m sorry I made a single fuckin’ noise. Maybe you shoulda been more careful.” If she could’ve stood up and gotten in his face, she would have. Unfortunately, the pain in her ankle and the grogginess from the meds kept her on the couch. 

Daryl had pulled on a dark blue t-shirt while she’d gone on her rant. She figured he would stay in his room, but then she remembered that he’d cut his hand—the accident that started this whole mess.

Swallowing down her anger at him for the moment, she pushed herself into a better seated position. “C’mere. Lemme see yer hand.”

When he gave her a perplexed look, she motioned to his still-wrapped hand and rolled her eyes. “Yer hand… ya know, the one ya must’ve cut to start yellin’ the way ya were.”

His sapphire eyes narrowed and he stayed where he was for a second, but then he gave in and stalked over. He sat down on the coffee table across from her with a huff.

“It’s just a scratch, nothin’ fer you to be gettin’ all worked up over,” he muttered.

Beth kept her eyes on his hand so he wouldn’t see her rolling them for the tenth time since she’d woken up. The red rag had stopped any more blood from escaping and he was right, it was just a small cut, nothing that would need stitches, just some antibiotic cream and a bandaid. That reminded her that she’d wanted to take a look at the cut on his face. So she took the opportunity to brush his hair back before he had a chance to realize what was happening. The skin looked to be healing and it wasn’t red or warm. That’s all she had the chance to study before he was jerking away, heading towards the bathroom.

“Just needs a fuckin’ Band-Aid,” he grumbled. 

“Exactly what I woulda told’ja if you’d given me the chance, you stubborn redneck pain in the ass!” Beth clapped her hand over her mouth as soon as the words escaped and turned apologetic. “I’m sorry, Daryl. That just kinda slipped out—I didn’t mean it!”

To her surprise, the corner of his mouth was ticking up into the slightest smirk. “Nah, that was impressive, Greene. I should make that side of ya come out more often.”

He was still upset, she could tell. But he was trying to calm himself down. They’d both let their tempers get out of hand as quickly as they’d just dissipated. 

He returned in less than a minute and was back on the table. He held out the Neosporin and Band-Aid towards her and left his hand hovering in the air between them. Beth quickly had the small knick covered.

There was something she needed to say, even though the voice in her head was telling her to keep her mouth shut for once. She didn't need to fix it like she always thought she did. 

“Please don’t get mad again. I’m just gonna say one thing, and then we can pretend this never happened,” she started, not giving him the chance to interrupt before she’d finished. “Those marks on yer back, those scars—they aren’t yer fault. I’m sure you’ve heard that more times than you wanted to over the years, but from personal experience, I bet ya think those scars prove that you were weak. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you Daryl, it’s the fact that there isn’t a single bit of weakness in you.”

“Personal experience?” She’d expected yelling or for him to storm out of the cabin again. His whispered question caught her so off-guard that she just stared. “Ya said ‘personal experience.’ Whadd’ya mean?”

“Oh. You know, the scar on my wrist,” she replied simply. “You even heard Gareth. People see that scar and automatically think I was weak. And I might’ve been at that moment, but it doesn’t mean that  _ I’m _ weak.”

Beth could see that he was getting ready to give her the usual  _ you aren’t weak  _ answer, and she cut him off before he had the chance.

“Yer dad? Was he the one that did that?”

He was intently looking at something on the floor, but dipped his head slightly.

“All those scars show is that yer dad was a weak man,” she said. “A real man wouldn’t take anger out on his son like that. He was the weak one, and I think that all he did was make you a stronger person. He gave you the ability to care. You wouldn’t hurt anybody because you’ve been hurt yerse—“

“We both know that’s a fuckin’ lie, Beth,” he interrupted sharply. “I’ve hurt more people’an you can even count. Hell, you saw me  _ kill _ someone. Pretty sure that’s considered hurtin’ somebody.” 

“Would ya ever hurt me, Daryl?” Beth’s hand was under his chin and pushing him to look at her. “The people you hurt? Did they deserve it? Were they like Gareth? Did you hurt or kill them to stop them from hurting or killing someone you cared about?”

“I’d never hurt you. Gareth was the first.” His words were so quiet, she thought she might’ve misheard him.

“Gareth was the first person you ever killed?” Her hand was still under his chin and, if possible, his eyes had gotten more blue. The intensity behind them sent a chill down her spine. 

“No,” he admitted. “Just the first one that I ever killed to save somebody I care about. The others were just me doin’ what the old man or Merle told me to do. I’s just followin’ orders.”

She let out a breath. “Oh.”

She had no clue how to respond to that. ‘Thank you’ seemed callous. For once, the silence between them was uncomfortable. Beth tried to find something to say to fill the void, but Daryl did that on his own.

"Guessed right. Was the old man. He took his anger out on my mom till she died, then it was Merle. After Merle chose the old man and his money an’ drugs over me… then it was my turn. That's why ya won't see me sheddin' no tears fer Will Dixon. He got what was comin' to him. Just twenty years too late."

He lightly squeezed her shoulder, gave her a small smile, and grabbed the pack of cigarettes he'd left on the kitchen counter before heading back outside.

* * *

They passed the day the same as the day before. Beth spent most of her time on the couch, trying to recall everything she could about her family and record it in her journal. Daryl was quiet and spent most of his time chain-smoking on the front porch. There was a part of Beth that wished she smoked so she could join him, just so she could have something to do with her time. She was starting to go stir crazy in the cabin. Her own safety was going to make her lose her mind. 

Being bored and restless usually made the days drag by, but today it was like one minute they were having breakfast and the next, Daryl was cooking another frozen pizza and convincing her to take another pain pill. 

“I feel gross,” she objected. “I need a shower before I take that and fall asleep again.” She was already up and off the couch, stupidly thinking she could walk into the bathroom with all of her dignity intact, but she put her weight on her bad ankle and almost went down for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“Yeah, how ya gonna stand in the shower when ya can’t even walk ten steps?” Daryl was giving her the look that she now knew meant he was teasing her. He did have a point. But she also had a point about not going to bed smelling like she’d been out in the woods. 

“Maybe you could help me to the bathroom and instead of me standin’ in the shower, I could make use of that nice bathtub! Then you can help me back out…” Beth gave him her best smile and batted her eyes. He couldn’t hide the bright red blush that was creeping up his neck and to the tips of his ears that were peeking out from his hair.

“Not help me outta the bathtub,” she clarified. “I’ll figure that part out on my own! Just wait for me to call ya an’ help me get to bed, I mean.” She didn’t even have the words out of her mouth before Daryl was scooping her up and carrying her to the bathroom. He gently sat her on the edge of the bathtub and started messing with the taps. 

“Well, that worked! I’ll holler when I’m ready. Oh, wait! Before I get in, I have some clean pajamas that are on the dresser in my room. Can you bring those to me? Oh, and some clean… nevermind.” Now she was sure that her face and neck were as red as his had been. Had she just been about to ask Daryl to bring her clean underwear? 

He’d been halfway to the door and turned around when she’d caught herself. “Some clean what?”

“Nothin,” she said. “Just my pajamas. Please.” She would figure something out, but there was no way she was going to ask Daryl to dig through her bag looking for underwear. She’d already tossed tampons and condoms at him when she dumped out her bag (thanks a lot, Maggie). 

Daryl returned quickly and dropped the clothes on the counter closest to the bathtub, then hurriedly made his way out of the room. She would’ve loved to spend an hour in the tub, but after about twenty minutes, her ankle was starting to hurt and she didn't want to make Daryl wait while she wasted time in the bathtub. 

Beth clumsily climbed out of the bath and managed to hop and hobble her way to the counter. Her embarrassment spiked again when she noticed that right on top of the clothes he had brought down for her was a pair of light blue panties. She wasn’t as covert as she thought. 

She was going to save face somehow though, so limping out of the bathroom on her own… yep, that was gonna have to happen. It took her a few minutes, but she made it and was slowly coming out the door when she felt his eyes land on her.

“Dammit Beth, why didn’t you call me?” He was quickly at her side and urging her to rest her weight against him.

“Because I decided that I was gonna do it on my own,” she said matter-of-factly. “And I did. Now I’m gonna take ya up on that pain pill and then we can figure out how to get me upstairs.” Her ankle was starting to throb and a headache was building behind her eyes. Curling up and going to sleep sounded like a good way to end this day. Falling asleep next to Daryl would be even better, but she didn’t want to push her luck with him more than she already had. 

“Nah, yer sleepin’ down here again tonight,” he argued. “Ain’t gonna spend half the night awake thinkin’ that yer gonna come tumblin’ down the stairs at any moment. Get settled and I’ll bring ya water and some meds.” He’d walked her to the side of the bed she’d slept on the night before and gently helped her sit down. 

“Will um,” she started hesitantly. “Will you stay with me again? It’s just that I sleep better when you’re close. If it makes ya uncomfortable, forget I asked…” Why was she so bad at this? It wasn’t like she was asking him to get naked and pound her into the mattress.

_ That _ thought took on a life of its own in her head as ideas of him doing just that made him staying with her all the more appealing. 

“Yeah, I’s plannin’ on it,” he replied. “Are you plannin’ on chasin’ me all over the bed again? I’m gonna need ta turn up the AC if ya are.” She couldn’t see his face since he was in the kitchen, but she thought there was a hint of laughter in his voice. 

“Didn’t chase ya… I’m just a restless sleeper.” She really was. That was her story and she was gonna stick to it. 

“Sure, Greene. Keep tellin’ yerself that. Take those while I make sure the lights are off an’ everything’s locked up.”

Daryl Dixon might be a good man, and he might be the only person she had left in the world at the moment, but he could also be a real ass.

* * *

_ RING _ _  
_ _ RING _ __  
_ RING  _ _  
_ __ RING

“Beth, why the fuck is yer phone ringin’ at 3 in the mornin’?” Daryl was growling at her and trying to shove the pillow over his head to block out the noise.

If she knew the answer to that question, she wouldn’t be desperately trying to find the damn thing without falling out of bed.

“I don’t know, but I’ll be sure to ask ‘em if I ever find the damn thing and answer it.” If he was allowed to be cranky, so was she.

Daryl had plugged both phones in last night, but where had he plugged them in at? Right, next to her bedside table. Now that she was awake and processing things, she could see the indication light flashing.

Before she had a chance to do anything else, the phone started ringing again.

The number wasn’t one she knew, but the only person that had this phone’s number was Rick, so it had to be him or someone he knew. Beth slid the green button to answer before putting it up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Beth Greene? This is Aaron. We can talk now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Every comment just makes my day and week that much better and I love each and every one of them!  
> If you plan on celebrating this weekend, stay safe! Wear a mask, stay 6 feet apart! If you aren't going out, Hamilton is on Disney+ starting tomorrow... I plan to drive everyone in my house crazy with it for as long as I can!
> 
> If you haven't already had time to check it out over at Ultimate Bethyl Fic List we are getting ready for Bethyl smut week! The prompts can be found on our [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ultimatebethylficlist)


	23. Law and Order: Special Rick Grimes Unit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick has a presumed dead man living in his basement, boxes of stolen files in his closet, and a date with the FBI... what could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was completely stalled out until yesterday. If you know SquishyCool drop her a line if you're happy that this is getting updated. I've been stuck and having possibly the worst two weeks, but she is an amazing person and did something absolutely amazing for me. 
> 
> I'm also doing a little messing around with the timeline. It felt too important when discussing Rick and the sheriff department to ignore everything that has been going on in the country. There's some mentions of police brutality, they are not happening in the chapter it's just something in Rick's thoughts, but wanted to make sure there was a warning out there.

**Law and Order: Special Rick Grimes Unit**

Three or four days, that was the most he had. He could be out of here in two if he absolutely had to, but he needed the all the time he could get. Rick pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. This was always how this was gonna go down. There had never been another choice, but now that he was at the precipice, he was having the doubts he should’ve had years ago.

Laura startled him out of his thoughts. “I’m headin’ home, boss. Ya need anythin’ else?” 

“Nah, go home. Have a good night.” He gave the blonde officer a nod as she smiled and turned to walk out of the station. Laura was one of the good ones. That much he knew.

He wished he could say that about all of his officers. But he had to be practical… they were an almost all-white police force in the deep south. He thanked God every night that nothing had happened here so far, but with hotheads like Shane running around, he wasn’t so sure that would always be the case. 

The unrest in the country was the only thing giving him the extra time that he needed. The moment he got the call that the FBI was planning to take over the case, he’d started to put everything in motion. Now he just had to tie up some loose ends and wait for the Special Agent in charge to make his appearance. Then Rick would be slipping out of town as quickly as he could. Most likely dragging an irritable Dixon along with him. 

His computer signaled that all of the files had been copied to the thumb drive. The last batch. Finally. He added the most recent drive to the 23 others that he kept in the steel lockbox, which was locked in his desk. He’d be taking it with him tonight. He was no longer on his own time frame; he was working on borrowed time. He’d backed his newly purchased SUV as close to the back door as he could. An all cash purchase, thanks to Hershel Greene’s explicit planning. There were ten evidence boxes stacked by the door. He’d told everyone that he was setting files aside for the FBI when they arrived and of course, no one had ever questioned the sheriff’s motives. Truth was, he’d been setting them aside just to make sure that they never saw the light of day once the FBI came calling. Sure, there would be other paper trails they could follow, and they’d eventually realize what he’d done—what he’d been doing for  _ years _ . But he planned to be nothing more than a memory by that time. 

The only part of this plan that he was questioning: Carl and Judith. He wasn’t planning to leave them forever, but he had to choose between seeing them with a bulletproof glass partition between them, or this extended time apart that he needed in order to come up with some crazy-ass plan to keep them all out of jail. Either way, he was most likely screwed, but he’d made a promise to the man that’d saved his life all those years ago.

Carl wouldn’t really care. He was happier around Shane anymore; he was able to get away with more when Shane was around. Judith… well, Judith was going to learn the truth one day. That Shane was her biological father. And she’d have to make a decision between the two men someday. Maybe it was better that Rick was making it for her now, when she still didn’t understand what was going on. 

He loaded the last box into the Durango and slammed the back door shut. He slid the steel box under the front seat so he could figure out somewhere safe to keep it for the next few days. He probably needed to stop and get something to eat for him and his…  _ houseguest. _

The closest thing between here and his house was the new taco stand. Knowing Merle, he wouldn’t be a fan of them, but Rick really didn’t fucking care about what Merle liked and disliked at this point. 

He was sitting in the drive thru when blonde curls caught his eye. Sitting right next to one of the windows were Shane and Lori and both kids. Judith was laughing hard at something Carl was saying. Shane and Lori were sharing a look. A look that he’d never shared with his ex wife. They’d never seen this car, so they wouldn’t know it was him sitting there, staring at what used to be  _ his _ family. They’d just recast the role of husband and father with Shane Walsh.

By the time he’d placed his order and picked up the food, he was even more convinced of his plan. He had to leave. Before all of the bad news came out about him. The fact that he’d covered up a few crimes and looked the other way for years shouldn’t be that big of a deal. He’d never used excessive force, hadn’t upped charges because he was dealing with a Black man; never had anything to do with any “accidental” deaths. No, that had never been the way he’d run the Sheriff’s Department, but this was going to blow up. His family was going to get hit with the blowback. The best thing he could do for them would be to disappear before shit hit the fan and everything went to hell. 

Dealing with Merle Dixon was the last thing Rick wanted to do that night, but he’d made the decision to keep him out of the safehouse in Atlanta. Something just felt off about it once he’d looked into the officer that would be with Merle full time. Dawn Lerner. More allegations than any cop he’d ever known, but not a single one had gone farther than that. She either had someone on the inside, or someone real powerful outside the APD pulling strings for her. And as much as Rick disliked the older Dixon, he was going to be valuable at some point down the line. 

He shoved the boxes into the front closet and put the lockbox on the top shelf behind another lockbox where he kept his spare gun. It would all be coming with them when they left. He needed them to be as close to the door as possible, just in case the time to bolt came faster than he was expecting. 

Rick took off his boots and left them right by the door and removed his gun belt, making sure that the safety was on. He wasn’t dumb enough to keep an unloaded gun in the house right now with all that had happened. He grabbed two beers from the fridge before heading down the stairs. He tossed one bag of tacos to Merle and set the beer down in front of him before throwing himself on the other end of the couch. He opened his own beer and took a long pull of cold liquid. 

“Tacos? Ya know, I was just fightin’ fer my damn life an’ ya wanna put this shit in my body?”

Rick should’ve bought his gun down with him. He wouldn’t shoot Merle, but he could scare the hell out of him with it. 

“Ya don’t like it, ya don’t have to eat it. I don’t see ya havin’ any other options, though.” Rick turned his attention to what was on the TV. “Seriously, Merle? SVU again? Haven’t ya seen all them episodes by now?”

“Over four-hundred episodes accordin’ to yer Hulu account,” Merle said, grinning. “An’ I only been watchin’ fer two days. We got a long road ahead, Officer Friendly. Ya know, watchin’ this show… there’s a lotta sick bastards out there. Makes me wonder why ya spent so much time tryin’ to put ol’ Merle in jail.” He stuffed half the taco in his hand into his mouth and shook his head. Like he was actually perplexed about why he was considered a criminal.

“Must be some bias against ya, Merle,” Rick said sarcastically. “But look at us now. Sharin’ a beer, watchin’ TV, and breakin’ bread like civilized people.”

“Strange times, Officer Friendly. Strange times.” Merle let loose one of his cackles. “Thanks fer the food. I’m gonna have my one allowed cigarette now. And yeah yeah yeah, I know the rules. Stay outta the light. Don’ let anybody see me out back. Don’t leave the fuckin’ backyard. Save yer breath, I got it by now.”

Rick grabbed the empty wrappers and bottles and took them to the trash can upstairs under the kitchen sink. He needed a shower and a good night's sleep. He should also check in with Beth and Daryl. Make sure they don't have any other bodies dropping around them. He understood why it had happened and that they didn’t really have a choice, but those two had been on their own for less than a week and were already turning into a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde. The package he’d sent up to the Ranger’s station had to have arrived by now, so they would have the burner phones and the files. He could only hope that they would listen to him and stay put until he and Merle could get there. 

The shower did little to clear his mind like he’d hoped it would. He just kept thinking about all of the things that he still needed to get done. Most importantly, he needed to get in touch with Michonne. She was the Greene's lawyer, and had all of the documents he needed in order to assure that anyone could move around freely. She’d done a rush job on the things for Maggie, Glenn, and T. That couldn’t really be helped. He got…  _ flustered  _ around Michonne. The woman scared the living hell out of him, but she also intrigued him.

She was a beautiful woman, but part of him was scared to tell her that. He’d seen the katana sword that she had mounted over her fireplace, and he had no doubt that she could use it and take off his head—or any other body parts that he was very fond of. 

He would try and meet her on his lunch break tomorrow. Once he had all the documents from her, all that would be left was waiting for the FBI’s inevitable arrival.

* * *

The FBI arrived faster than he thought. Those three days he thought he had went up in smoke when Laura came running into his office just after 9 that morning. 

Her eyes were wide and if it was possible, her pale skin had faded to almost transparent. “Ugh, boss. Four blacked-out SVU’s just pulled up and there’s a lotta suits headin’ yer way.” 

“Yeah, I been expectin’ ‘em. They’re here for the Greene/Dixon case,” he explained, trying to remain as calm and cool as possible. “Send whoever’s in charge back here, if ya don’t mind.” Laura nodded and headed towards the front of the building, her back straight and shoulders set. They weren’t going to intimidate that deputy. 

Rick chuckled almost nervously to himself and stood up, taking a deep breath before walking in front of his desk. Time to see if he could pull off his end of this mess.

Moments later, Laura was heading back towards his office, followed closely by a tall redheaded man. Rick immediately pegged him as former military. Probably did his time and was recruited into the bureau before the ink on his papers had dried. Laura pointed him towards the door, rolling her eyes at something the man said as he walked past her. 

“You must be Sheriff Grimes. Special Agent Abraham Ford. I’m here to fix the clusterfuck you’ve been sittin’ on the past few days.” The agent gave a sharp barking laugh to his own joke that accentuated his handlebar mustache, which was just as flaming red as his hair. 

“Well you’re more than welcome to it. I’m just a small town sheriff, this is all outta my league. Been waitin’ on one of y’all ta get here since this whole mess went down.” Rick had decided that if he made it seem like he was struggling with the case and that he didn’t want anything to do with it, the questions might not come as quick. Playing dumb might be his best option right now.

“Shit! Outta yer league is puttin’ it mildly, son! You’ve turned this into a grade A circle jerk. I’m startin’ ta think y’all’ve just been sittin’ round, suckin’ each other’s dicks instead a tryin’ ta find out who killed the good citizens of yer town.” Of course they would send the overachieving asshole agent to deal with this. Why would Rick’s luck change now? If things were different, he might be inviting this man over for a few beers to tell him everything he knew about the case. But if he did that today, he’d probably have a hard time explaining the files he’d recently relocated from the station. And of course there was the presumed dead Merle Dixon living in his basement.

Rick just had to make it through today. This time tomorrow, they would be turning over every rock in town looking for dirt on him, and he would be a few states away by then. 

“I think the best place ta start would be with you tellin’ me just where in the fuck my witnesses are,” Abraham said. “I went by the house my agents have been watchin’ over and ya know what I found there? Some giant beast of a man sittin’ on the couch, playin’ old country songs on a guitar. Said his name was Beta or some shit. I expected to find one Theodore Douglas, one Glenn Rhee, and one Maggie Rhee. Ya know anything ‘bout that?” Abraham quirked an eyebrow and stared Rick down.

Rick closed his eyes and let out the breath he’d been holding. This was not the guy he wanted to deal with. He was going to have to work fast to get him what he wanted. He almost felt bad about what he was about to do… almost. But Shane did kinda have this coming. 

“How ‘bout we sit down, have a cup of coffee, and as soon as my deputy Shane gets here, he’ll give ya anything you need and take ya where ever you wanna go.” Rick made his way back around his desk and sat down in his chair, waking up his computer. Agent Ford stood there for a few seconds, staring at him before sitting down across from him.

“Who’s Shane?”

Didn’t he just say that he was his deputy?

“My deputy, second in command around here. Been lettin’ him run point on this while I held things down here.” That was partially true. He’d put Shane in charge so no one would question him. Everyone in town knew Rick was close to the Greene Family, so it would be expected that he would take a step back and keep himself out of the investigation. 

“So this Shane’s gonna tell me where my missin’ witnesses went?” Abraham was glaring at him like he was trying to read his mind. The man was probably one hell of an agent. Luckily, Rick was pretty good at covering his own ass. 

“I doubt he’d know,” Rick replied. “We turned T, Maggie, an’ Glenn over to your men the day after the shooting. I went over there later that day, after I found out that one of Hershel’s farmhands was still on the property. He’d been wounded and ended up findin’ his way to one of the barns. He’d obtained medical care somehow. I knew you’d come around, an’ you’d definitely wanna talk to him, so I figured the safehouse with the others was the best place for him. Yer men got no idea where they are? Maybe it’s yer people havin’ a circle jerk if they managed ta lose three full-grown witnesses.”

Rick could hear his mother’s voice in his head telling him not to poke an angry bear, but he needed this to all look legit when Agent Ford went back over it. 

Rick knew exactly where the “missing” witnesses were. Just like he knew the house he’d suggested the feds use was one of the Greene’s safe houses. And just like the farm, it had its own secrets. Like the spot in the living room that was usually covered with a rug—one that Yumiko had brought Hershel back from one of her trips to Japan—was actually a trap door that led to a tunnel, which had been dug and fortified. It led straight to the storm shelter. T was already in Alabama. Maggie and Glenn were on their way to Florida. 

Beta had agreed to stay in the house and make sure to give the feds the run-around. He was still doing what he’d been hired to do: protect the Greene’s.

“I’ll be talkin’ to my men, you can sure as shit bet on that. But I got another question for you,  _ Sheriff. _ ” Ford’s emphasis on the title and the way he leaned forward and rested his arms on Rick’s desk told him that he was about to get hit with another surprise that he hadn’t seen coming.

He nodded for the other man to go on.

“Ya see, I’ve been in Atlanta for the past month—I was at the finish line of a case I’ve been workin’ on for three years. I’d been followin’ money trails an’ illegal weapons. Then I started lookin’ into drug rings… and ya know where all that shit led me?” Ford narrowed his eyes. “To your doorstep. This little shithole town in Georgia seems to be a hotbed for organized crime.”

Rick was well aware of that fact. How this man had been able to get enough evidence to prove it was a mystery, though. Rick had done everything in his power to keep Greene's name and business off the radar, but that didn’t mean he caught  _ everything _ . It probably also meant that whatever leak did make it through had to do with the Dixon’s.

“The day of the shootings,” Abraham continued. “Maybe three hours before the shit hit the fan here… I was gettin’ warrants signed by a federal judge to arrest Hershel Greene, Theodore Douglas, Glenn and Maggie Rhee, William Dixon, and Merle Dixon. See, I’ve been puttin’ together a little RICO case against all a them. Finally got the right judge to sign off. But then, as I’m briefing my team about how it’s all gonna go down the next morning, I get a call. Just about everyone I was goin’ to arrest is suddenly dead. And now that I’m here, the three that were still alive are suddenly  _ missing _ .”

The feds had enough for a RICO case? Fuck! That was a wrench that Rick hadn’t seen coming. The fact that they hadn’t been told that this was happening either was concerning. It was an unwritten law that when the feds came in for a bust like that, they’d let local law enforcement know ahead of time.

“Curious that we weren’t informed. Ain’t it?” Rick countered. “Don’t y’all usually make sure that the locals are looped in? Just in case ya need some backup? Or maybe just outta common courtesy? I never saw that come across my desk, Agent Ford.”

Rick’s mind was racing. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the FBI had been closing in on the same night the two families involved were massacred. 

“ _ Special  _ Agent Ford,” Abraham corrected, smirking smugly. “I like the extra bit, makes my ass feel special. I can assure you the proper notifications were made. Including one send directly to your office. The fact that it never made it to yer desk ain’t really my problem, now is it?”

Before Rick could answer him, Shane was making his way to his desk. Catching Shane’s eye before he could sit, Rick waved him into his office. Deputy Walsh didn’t look a bit surprised to see a suit sitting in his office. They’d all been waiting for them to show up. 

“Shane, this is  _ Special  _ Agent Abraham Ford—he’s a big fan of the special part, so don’t forget it,” Rick explained. “The FBI is takin’ over the Greene/Dixon murder case. I let him know you’ve been runnin’ point and would be willing ta help out any way you can. I’ve got some business ta take care of in town so, I’ll let the y’all get ta work.” Rick stood up and walked towards his office door, making sure both men knew that the meeting was over. 

Abraham pushed himself out of the chair with a smirk on his face, walking towards the door. He was almost out when he paused and turned around to ask Rick one more question. 

“Ya know, I’ve been tryin’ ta get ahold of Beth Greene. Seems nobody’s seen her since before the murders. I spoke to her boyfriend the night after, but now he won’t return my calls neither. Ya don’t happen to know where she might be, do ya?” Something in the way Abraham asked the question made Rick think that he knew they’d been in contact and that Rick probably had a good idea of where she was.

“No, sir,” he lied, completely straight-faced. “Been tryin’ ta get ahold of her myself. Didn’t want her ta have to hear about what happened on the news, but I’m afraid that’s what happened. Maybe she just needed to get away. Ya know, clear her head, have some time to herself.” He shrugged his shoulders before gesturing for them to leave his office again. 

As he was closing the door, he heard Abraham ask Shane, “Ya think he’d give me the same bullshit answer if I asked him where Daryl Dixon might be?”

Rick closed the door with a bit more force than was necessary and got to work on making sure that all of the incriminating files on his computer disappeared.

* * *

Rick carefully backed the SVU into the garage, intending to load up the boxes and person in his house without having to worry about the prying eyes of his neighbors. He’d been inspired by Beth and had a bag ready to go so he wouldn’t have to take any extra time packing one.

Before he started loading stuff, he ran down the stairs and startled the man on the couch. Merle had been so engrossed in the movie on TV that he hadn’t heard Rick until he was right on top of him. He glanced at the screen and the movie looked familiar, maybe something that Lori had made him watch, he was pretty sure it had a family of vampires in it, but now wasn’t the time to figure it out. 

“Pack up your pink scrubs and whatever else ya have and then get yer ass upstairs and help me load up the truck.” 

Merle being Merle didn’t even question what was going on. He just grabbed the old army bag that he’d had Rick pick up from the junkyard a few nights ago. Just another law Rick had broken in the past few months. Merle did exactly what Rick had told him and packed his scrubs, the handful of wife beaters, and the extra pair of jeans he had. Merle had started for the stairs before he remembered to turn back and grab the medications and bandages that the hospital had sent home with him. 

Even with Merle moving slower than he usually did, it didn’t take long for the two of them to load the boxes into the back and for Rick to grab his spare guns and his bag. The older Dixon didn’t even put up a fight when Rick told him to stay laid down in the backseat until they made it out of town. Neither man said anything as Rick drove the truck out of the garage. He made sure the garage door shut before he gave one last look around, his paranoia starting to creep in.

They were almost to the edge of town when Merle spoke up from the backseat.

“Fun as this is Officer Friendly, ya gonna tell me where the hell we’re sneakin’ off to in the middle of the day?”

Rick glanced into the rearview mirror and caught the older man's eyes with his. “We’re goin’ to see yer brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed checking in with Rick and Merle. The next chapter is almost finished and the title is Firefly Glow... so if you remember that from earlier chapters you know what might be coming very soon! I hope everyone out there is staying safe!


	24. So Close to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron calls back. Ozzy has information. Daryl is completely screwed... and he's not really sure he cares.

**So Close to You**

Beth had answered the phone and then dropped it on the bed like it burned her. Daryl could hear a voice coming from the speaker, but he wasn’t able to make out what they were saying.

Before he could react she’d picked the phone up again and was fumbling for the button to turn on the speaker. Still having no clue what was going on, Daryl rolled over and fumbled for the light switch. He finally found it and the small nook his bed was in lit up with the warm light from the lamp.

“Hello?” The voice echoed out from the phone’s speaker. “Listen, I’m sorry I hung up on you earlier. I couldn’t talk right then.”

Beth looked at Daryl like he held the answers to what she should do. But Daryl had no clue what to do. These were completely unchartered waters for him. But they needed answers, so he nodded his head and then looked down at the phone.

“Hi,” Beth finally responded. “Thanks fer callin’ me back. I guess…” Her voice was strong, but Daryl could see that all the color had drained from her face, and there was a hint of tears in her big blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t have been good for either of us if I’d stayed on the phone at that moment. I’ve been expecting a call from you or your sister. I’d thought it would be your sister, to be honest.”

Beth’s shoulders sagged when she heard that, and at the moment, Daryl wanted to reach through the phone and throttle the man on the other end. 

“Yeah, story of my life,” she said. “I guess my dad was the only one who thought I’d be able to handle this. So is there a reason he wanted me ta call you if somethin’ happened to him? I’m sure it wasn’t to be insulted and hung up on.”

Daryl couldn’t hide the smirk that came across his face. His girl had fire. 

‘ _ Woah there, little brother—your girl? Woohoo, didn’ know ya’d already nailed that sweet piece of a…’ _

He shook his head, trying to figure out when his internal voice had become Merle. That would be just like him though, get himself killed and then take up residence in Daryl’s head.

Daryl had been so caught up on his mix up that he almost missed what Aaron had to say next. 

“I’m sorry. Your father always spoke so highly of you and was so proud that you’d decided to go your own way that I always expected one day I’d get a call from Maggie. I’m glad you reached out, just sorry that the timing was bad. Listen, I can’t talk long and talking on the phone isn’t a good idea. I’m assuming that the phone you’re on is from Eugene. I trust his tech, but my paranoia has kept me out of the line of fire this long, and I don’t plan to tempt fate.”

This guy was smart, no matter how Beth felt about him. Hershel had trusted him and that was enough to make Daryl want to trust him. The Greene patriarch had always been a good judge of character, he knew how to handle the bad and the good in people. He wouldn’t have told Beth to reach out to this man if he hadn’t trusted him. But Merle’s voice in Daryl’s head reminded him that Hershel had also told her to reach out to Dwight, and Daryl wasn’t quite sure where that man’s loyalties stood.

“I think I know who killed your dad, or at least who had a hand in it. I’m not gonna say anything over the phone. I can’t put either of us in that kinda danger. We need to talk in person.”

Beth was shaking her head already, looking like she was about to tell Aaron where he could go and how fast he could get there. Daryl put a hand on her arm, hoping it would calm her some. She took a deep breath and nodded her head when he tapped his ear with one finger, signaling for her to hear Aaron out.

The mysterious man on the other end of the phone went on, “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that you aren’t in Georgia anymore. I’m not able to leave D.C. anytime soon. If I know Hershel, he left you with enough money and resources to get anywhere you need to go. Come here and I’ll tell you everything I can.”

Beth was chewing on her lower lip so hard that if she kept up, she was going to put her teeth right through it. Without even thinking, Daryl put his hand on her cheek and gently tugged her lip free with his thumb. Realizing what he’d done at the same moment, her eyes widened and locked on his. He was frozen in place, like his hand had a mind of its own, but then she smiled at him and leaned her face into his palm.

He dropped his hand when she took a deep breath and started to give Aaron an answer.

“I need ta sleep on it. Can ya call me back tomorrow? There are other people involved with this that I need ta talk to—but how do I know yer tellin’ me the truth? That you have the answers I need?”

“Because the same person that killed your family—not just your dad—also put my husband in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Tomorrow. Same time.”

The phone that was sitting between them lit up, indicating that the call had been disconnected. 

Daryl wasn’t sure what to say to her. She didn’t need to check with him. If she wanted to go to D.C., then they would go. Rick probably wouldn’t be too happy with them, but he wasn’t here so he didn’t get a vote. 

“Boston was the plan right?” Daryl spoke up first. “Why don’t we go through D.C. to get there. We have to go north no matter what. He’s got answers, from the way it sounds. You just tell me which way ta point the truck.”

He’d said the right thing this time judging by the smile that lit up her face. 

“Have I told ya today that yer a good man, Daryl Dixon?”

Damn, this girl and her ability to make him feel something that he shouldn’t be feeling. When she smiled like that and her eyes turned that sky blue, he was a lost cause. Thank God it was only his version of Merle in his head anymore and not the man himself. He would never be able to live with the constant teasing that would come from Merle being able to read what was going on in his mind.

“I meant what I told him though,” she said. “Let’s sleep on it. Talk about it in the morning, make sure that this is the best plan for both of us.”

He didn’t trust himself to use words that wouldn’t make him sound like an idiot, so he stuck to a nod. Reaching over to turn the light off, the room was once again plunged into darkness.

When he turned over, he was met with a face full of blonde hair. She’d plugged her phone back in and had moved herself into the middle of the bed, more on his side than hers at the moment. Fine, if she wanted to sleep here, she’d have to deal with what came with it.

Daryl settled down so there was only a small bit of space between them, keeping his arms pulled tight to his chest. They laid like that for a few minutes and Daryl was just starting to drift off when he heard her let out a small sigh and she scooted back, closing the distance between them. He gritted his teeth as she squirmed against him, trying to find a comfortable position, his arms trapped between their bodies until she gave another sigh, this one more frustrated than the last. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she grabbed his arm and brought it over her waist, twining her fingers through his.

Daryl felt every muscle in his body tense up and he had to fight the urge to jerk his arm back, but then he let himself relax and let go of the knee-jerk reaction he was so used to having. When he didn’t fight her, she let out a small noise of contentment and within a few minutes, he felt her body relax against his and her breathing became that rhythmic in and out of someone falling into a deep sleep.

He was absolutely and totally fucked. And he had no clue what to do about it.

* * *

That feeling he had right before he fell asleep—it was worse now that he was awake again.

The scent of Beth’s hair was filling his nose, and adding to his feeling of being fucked was the fact that her ass was pressed right up against him. He probably shouldn’t wake Beth up with his dick, hard as a rock, pressed up against her. Daryl sent up a prayer to whoever was listening that she didn’t start wiggling around before he could extricate himself from the deathgrip she still had on his hand. He’d planned to move away from her once she was sound asleep, but having his arm wrapped around her was somehow comforting, so he decided to stay where he was just for a few minutes longer. Of course, then he’d fallen asleep. 

He was able to untangle their fingers and slowly ease himself out of the bed. Beth only shifted slightly without him behind her, but she buried her face into her pillow a little more and went still again. Daryl was in desperate need of coffee and a cigarette, but right now he needed a cold shower even more to get rid of this stupid morning wood. He wouldn’t be thinking straight until it was dealt with. 

The cold water did exactly what he needed it to do. Aside from dealing with his… issue, it woke him up and got his head cleared. It also brought back the phone call from Aaron last night. The last thing he’d said before he hung up was that the person who killed Beth’s dad also put his husband in a wheelchair. That seemed to be stuck in Daryl’s head for some reason. He was usually hesitant to trust others, but he was willing to trust this man if that’s what Beth wanted to do.

She wasn’t saying it yet, but he knew that they would be heading to D.C. sooner rather than later. She wanted—no, she  _ needed _ those answers. Daryl didn’t need closure, his brother and old man had signed their death sentences long ago. And therefore, he’d made his peace with that long ago. But Beth, she was different. She wasn’t going to be able to stay out of her own head until she had all the closure she needed. 

Daryl was jolted out of his thoughts when his cold shower got a little too cold. He hopped out and removed the clear bandage Beth had once again made sure was on the counter for him. Even when she was in pain and barely able to walk last night, she’d made sure to do something for him. She deserved someone so much better than him draped around her while she slept. Someone that didn’t lose their temper easily and could answer questions with more than a single word or a grunt.

Beth was just getting closer to him because he was all she had at the moment. They were completely thrown together, left with no one but each other as life lines. When things settled down and she was able to hopefully go back to some sort of normal life, she would find someone that  _ actually _ deserved her. If they turned out to be like Gareth, well… Daryl would still be around to take out the trash if she needed him to.

Luckily, he’d remembered to grab some clothes on his way to the bathroom and he quickly dressed and made his way out to the kitchen, only stopping for a few moments to make sure that Beth was still asleep. It looked like she hadn’t moved an inch since he’d left. She was constantly on the go when she was awake, but when she slept, she was usually dead to the world. He set the coffee pot up and turned it on before grabbing his cigarettes and heading out the door. 

The cigarette helped clear the remaining cobwebs that the shower left behind and Daryl had just lit up a second when he saw something moving on the other side of the dirt driveway. Like someone or something was trying to stay concealed in the trees. His hunter senses immediately went up, and his right hand went to the knife that was sheathed on his belt. 

“Daryl…  _ psst… _ Daryl! It’s Ozzy.”

For fuck’s sake, was this dude really sneaking through the woods and trying to hide behind trees?

“Why the fuck’re ya hidin’ behind a tree? Ya got somebody chasin’ ya?” Daryl relaxed back into his seat and took a long drag from the cigarette that was burning away between his fingers. 

“Well, no. Just wanted ta talk to ya without the wife overhearing.” Ozzy was slowly walking across the driveway, but stopped at the bottom step and looked around like he was afraid Beth would come jumping out from around the corner. Spotting Daryl’s cigarette, Ozzy shook his head. “Don’tcha know those things'll kill ya?”

Daryl almost let him stay there looking scared, but he was developing a soft spot for the Park Ranger. Even with his terrible timing. “Yeah, so will zombies an’ blue-eyed blondes. Think I’ll stick to these. Don’t worry ‘bout Beth, she’s sound asleep. What’re ya scared ‘a her for anyhow?”

“Not scared of her, just wanted ta relay some information covertly.” The ranger was hiding something behind his back while acting like he was auditioning for the CIA. “That thing I told ya about—ya know, with the fireflies… I just wanted ta tell ya that it’s happenin’ tonight. Oh, and I brought ya this.” He pulled out a bottle of wine from behind his back and stretched his arm out for Daryl to take it. “I uh, I had that left over from a romantic interlude with a woman that didn’t exactly work out.”

Daryl had no idea what constituted good or bad wine, but the bottle looked like it was expensive. He didn’t want to be rude to the man that had already done so much for them so he took it, giving Ozzy a nod of thanks.

“Tonight, huh?” He grunted. “An’ we really need ta see this?” He’d grown up seeing fireflies lighting their asses up every summer. Beth probably had as well, and he didn’t want to get her up the stairs just to see a few blinking lights.

“Trust me, ya ain’t ever seen anything like this before. People come from all over the world ta see it,” Ozzy assured. “We even have to hold a lottery just ‘cause we can’t have that many people trompin’ through the mountains. And y’all got a front row seat to see the show that some people pay thousands of dollars to see.” Ozzy gave him a look that Daryl was sure was his “Park Ranger” face.

Then he turned around to head back to his cabin, but called out to Daryl over his shoulder.

“You’ll thank me in the mornin’, Daryl!”

Shaking his head at the man, Daryl lit another cigarette before he headed back inside to get the coffee he still needed and see what he could make them for breakfast. It also gave him a few more minutes to figure out how he was going to explain to Beth that they needed to sit down and watch a bunch of fireflies tonight. 

* * *

Beth wasn’t in bed when he came back in the cabin and he could hear the shower running. Of course she wouldn’t wait for him to come back in, she wanted to prove that she was getting stronger on that ankle, even though it had only been a few days since she sprained it. Maybe if he heard her fall, he would just leave her in there on her ass since she felt the need to do everything on her own.

Hell, who was he kidding? That wouldn’t happen. If he heard so much as a shampoo bottle fall, he’d be in there making sure she was okay. Like he decided last night: he was completely and totally  _ fucked _ .

Daryl poured himself a cup of coffee and looked in the fridge, deciding what he should make. Beth had liked his eggs last time he made them, and they had bacon they needed to use. He could have that ready by the time she was done in the bathroom. He still kept one of his ears trained to listen for any sounds of her ankle giving out, but the shower turned off and he could hear her singing quietly.

That was something else about her. If anyone else just started singing like she did, it would drive him up the wall. But he loved to hear Beth sing. Her voice was unique, just like her. Before his thoughts could run away from him again, the bathroom door opened and Beth limped out.

She was moving better than she had yesterday, but she was still slow, and every few steps, a pained look would cross her face. There was something about her today that seemed different… brighter, almost. Her hair was up in its usual ponytail and she’d added a small braid to it. She’d picked out a green shirt that reminded him of freshly cut grass and new leaves. Two things he loved. Her jeans looked like they’d been around for a bit, with holes worn into the knees. The most telling thing was the smile that lit her from within. The green of her shirt did something to her eyes, and they were even more striking this morning than they’d been the whole time he’d been around her. 

Totally and completely  _ fucked _ .

“I smell coffee and bacon! I’m gettin’ spoiled by all the food yer makin’ me, Daryl!” Beth hobbled to the small kitchen table and sat down. She hadn’t put any shoes or socks on and even from here, he could tell that her ankle was still swollen.

“Yeah? Well if ya don’t put that ankle up on one of them chairs, ya won’t be gettin’ any.” He tried to give her a stern look, but she just laughed at him, her cheeks taking on a subtle pink color as she thought of something. 

“Really, Daryl? I won’t be  _ getting any _ ? Even if I ask nicely? I seem to remember getting what I wanted last night.” She gave him a coy smile and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

If he’d been holding the plates that he’d just sat on the counter, he would have dropped them and they would have shattered all over the kitchen floor. The heat he felt creeping up his neck was probably nothing compared to how red his ears and face were. What was worse than completely fucked? Because that’s where he was now. 

“Mmhm, ya did,” he grumbled. “And I control the food an’ the pain meds. I also know somethin’ that ya might be interested in. Somethin’ that doesn’t involve mysteries ‘bout either of our families.” He’d walked over to the table and was holding the plate of food he’d made her above his head. Beth rolled her eyes and made a big show of putting her injured ankle on the chair next to her.

Daryl set the plate in front of her before going back for his own and both cups of coffee, balancing everything as best he could and feeling pretty proud of himself when he made it with both cups still full and all of his food safely on the plate. 

“What’s this somethin’ ya know that might interest me?” She barely had time to ask him before she began digging into her food, eating like she hadn’t had anything in her system for days. 

“Ozzy says there’s some firefly thing that people come here to see, and it’s happenin’ tonight. Said that we’d have a perfect view from the windows in the loft.” Daryl shrugged his shoulders, trying to gauge her reaction.

“The synchronous fireflies?” Her eyes lit up, full of hope. “I’ve always wanted to see that! We learned about it in my freshman science class back in high school and I’ve been wantin’ to come here and see it ever since. I can’t believe we’re here at the same time it’s happening!”

Well, that settled that. He knew what they would be doing tonight. 

“So… yer sayin’ we should check it out tonight?” He asked.

Beth gave him a confused look until she saw that he was teasing her, and then a huge grin split her face and she was bouncing a bit in her seat while she shoveled the last of her food into her mouth. 

“Crazy girl,” he muttered under his breath. Her excitement was contagious though, and he found himself looking forward to witnessing this firefly show with her. 

“I heard that,” she teased. “Before we get to somethin’ that actually sounds like fun, we should decide if we wanna go an’ talk to Aaron.” Her eyes were still that bright blue, but there was something else in them. Like she was expecting him to tell her that it was a terrible idea. 

“I think we should go,” he said. “He sounded sincere on the phone, an’ I think he might have the answers yer lookin’ for. Somethin’ about what he said ‘bout his husband keeps stickin’ in my head. Like that’s somethin’ we already knew.” Daryl was still trying to rack his brain to figure out why it sounded familiar.

Beth’s eyebrows furrowed. “Holy shit, Daryl. Yer right!” She was thinking about jumping up out of her seat. He could see it happening and was already standing up himself to try and stop her. “Stupid fucking ankle! Can you get that journal I’ve been writin’ in, please?”

She’d left it on the kitchen counter the night before, opened to a page about safe houses she knew of in the Northeast. He grabbed it and handed it over to her. She quickly turned to a page toward the beginning of the journal. 

“When we were down at Ozzy’s and I was lookin’ up information on Reg Monroe, I wrote down everything about the night he was killed,” she explained, flipping through pages. “There was another person injured, I think… Wait! Here it is.” She paused and read her notes silently. “It was another architect that worked at Monroe’s business. They were workin’ on a project together. Reg was shot and killed. The other man, Eric, was shot, too. But the bullet was lodged in his spine and he lost all use of his legs. That has to be Aaron’s husband!” 

Daryl remembered her saying that someone else had been in the shooting, but he’d never given it a second thought after she told him. Aaron was looking more and more like the person to get them started in the right direction. 

“I think that’s settled it,” Daryl said decisively. “We’re goin’ to D.C. Now we just have to figure out what we're gonna tell Rick—and how close to arrestin’ me he’ll come.” He’d grabbed both of their plates while he was up and set them in the sink. He would worry about the dishes once they decided what to do.

“Should we get ready an’ leave in the mornin’? I’m not missin’ the fireflies, but we can leave first thing.” She’d already flipped to a blank page in her journal and had **AARON** written at the top of the page.

“Nah, we’re not goin’ till that ankle doesn’t resemble a tree limb. I’m not gonna take ya someplace that we could have to run and have you hobblin’ around like a drunken sailor. We’ve got a lead an’ a plan. Aaron can wait till yer healed.” He was happy to take her, but he wasn’t going to tempt fate. 

He thought she would argue with him, and she looked like she was about to, but then her face softened. She nodded.

“So, with that decided… what’re we gonna do for the rest of the day?”

Daryl had an answer, but before he could suggest they drive up to one of the meadows he’d seen when he’d gone with Ozzy to check on Gareth’s body, Beth decided to once again put too much faith in her busted ankle.

He couldn’t be sure if he’d seen what was about to happen or if it was Beth’s sharp yelp of pain, but either way, he was reaching out to grab her in an effort to steady her. But gravity and whatever other force was messing with his world tangled their limbs. He wound up plopping back down in his chair quickly just to keep them both off the floor—and pulling her into his lap while he did it. 

“My hero!” Beth proclaimed, trying to force a smile through the tears that had formed in her eyes from the pain.

He grunted, hoping his face wasn’t turning bright red. “Yeah, I’m a real Prince Charming. Come on, yer plans fer the day include the couch, ice, and elevatin’ that ankle. I’ll even let ya pick what movie we watch.”

She’d already thrown her arms around his neck when they were pseudo-falling, so all he had to do was hook an arm under her knees and stand up to get her to the couch. 

“I’m startin’ ta like you carryin’ me everywhere. I might not ever let this ankle heal!” He rolled his eyes at that, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he was pushing down the thought that he  _ would  _ carry her anywhere she wanted to go. 

“Then I guess we're never gonna make it to D.C., are we?” He gently put her on the couch before going to the bed and grabbing the pillow she’d been using and propping it behind her back. The throw pillow that’d been on the couch was perfect for her ankle. He made sure she was completely comfortable before going to the kitchen to grab the ice pack and two of the pain pills from the bottle on the counter. “Ya want water, coke, one a the bottles of iced tea ya bought?”

“Oh, um… iced tea, please! Can ya bring my journal over with you, too?” Beth was doing her little squirming thing that she always did to get comfortable and he had to hold in a laugh.

She was a force to be reckoned with, but sometimes she acted like a little kid. It was quickly becoming one of his favorite things about her. 

“I was thinkin’ maybe we could watch Jurassic Park,” she suggested. “I’m not sure, but dinosaurs chasin; people sounds like a good way to spend a day since I’m stuck on the couch.”

He’d expected her to pick some girly romance movie, but he liked this option. Beth must have had plans to watch it at some point, because the movie was right next to the TV. When the opening credits started to roll, Daryl made his way back towards the kitchen to clean up the mess he’d made cooking breakfast.

He spent the next twenty minutes washing the dishes and wiping down the counters and the table. It was when he turned to ask if she wanted anything from the kitchen while he was still in there that he noticed she hadn’t said anything since he’d left her with her dinosaurs.

Beth was in the exact same place he’d left her, only sound asleep. She still had the bottle of iced tea clutched in her hand. Shaking his head, he carefully pulled the bottle out of her grasp, setting it on the table. Her journal was open to the page she’d labeled for Aaron.

Seeing his name gave Daryl an idea… maybe he could pull a little bit of weight for this plan of hers.

When he’d first found this place and emailed Ozzy, the Park Ranger had made it clear that there was little to no cell reception up here. But the phones that Rick had sent them had full bars. Whoever the Greene’s tech person was probably did some kind of magic to make sure they were untraceable but still able to be used wherever they were. Daryl’s phone was still plugged in by the bed. He went to grab it, as well as a pen from the counter, before settling into one of the chairs and propping his feet up on the coffee table. He’d ask for forgiveness for adding to her journal later if he found something of use. 

Merle and Will never had any idea how to do research on people. Daryl wasn’t very good at it, but he was able to stumble around the internet well enough to get some information. Reg Monroe’s shooting was probably the best place to start. Finding the article was easy once he started looking. Most of the coverage was about Reg Monroe’s life, his wife’s political career, and how the shooter hadn’t been caught. The last few lines covered the associate that had been shot as well, but since he wasn’t married to a big name politician, his coverage was small. Only his name was listed: Eric Raleigh. 

Daryl’s next search gave him all the answers he’d wanted, but also more questions. Eric was married to a man named Aaron. There were a few pictures of them at various events, and Aaron looked like most professional, clean-cut guys Daryl had known in his life. Average height, kind of skinny, wavy brown hair. That wasn't the part that stood out most to him, though. It was where this particular picture had been taken.

The victory party for Deanna Monroe's bid for Congress.

Aaron was her Chief of Staff. The man that was supposedly going to help Beth and answer all her questions—who was supposed to give her a fucking name to run with—was the right-hand man of the woman who had one agenda, and one agenda only…

To end all organized crime.

* * *

Every time Daryl clicked onto another article about Deanna, he began to dislike the woman more and more. She would happily see him and Beth rot in prison for the rest of their lives. And now he was supposed to believe that the person she worked most closely with would be helpful to Hershel Greene’s daughter? 

“Daryl? If ya glare at that phone any harder, it’s gonna explode.” Beth’s sleepy voice pulled him out of the digital rabbit hole he’d gone down. 

“Enjoy yer nap?” He quickly put the phone to sleep and tossed it on the table. Might be better if the damn thing exploded. Keep him from trying to do some good again. 

“Um yeah, great nap. Did you steal my journal?” She gave him a hard stare that had him thinking he’d crossed a major line before she smiled and slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. Daryl gave her a sheepish smile and handed her back the journal, still open to the page that he’d been making a few notes on. “Wow, how long have I been sleepin’? You found all this just now?”

He could feel his ears growing warm and just gave her a quick nod, only looking at her from behind the fringe of hair that had fallen across his eyes. He wasn’t used to any of his efforts being that smile-worthy.

“Just filled in some blanks, nothin’ special. Stuff you’d’ve gotten pretty quick,” he said. “It’s not all good, though. Dunno if Aaron is as trustworthy as we were hopin’ he’d be.” Those cornflower blue eyes locked on his, filled with confusion, and he just nodded towards the notes he’d scribbled down. 

Daryl watched as she quickly scanned over the page, a tiny line forming between her eyebrows the more she read. 

“So Aaron’s boss… is Deanna Monroe?” She asked. “That seems like more than a coincidence. Two men that my dad said I could trust are both closely linked to her. One is dead, and the other says he knows who might be behind my dad’s death? She would’ve put my entire family  _ and _ yours in prison! Does this change our plans? Should we not even try?” Beth’s voice was getting a little panicked. He didn’t want to push her into another panic attack. She’d been so hopeful this morning and now, just a few hours later, she was beginning to doubt all of the leads she’d been able to cobble together so far. 

“No, I say we still go. We just don’t let our guards down fer one second around him. When he calls tonight, don’t mention anythin’ about what we know. Let him explain that when we can look him in the eye.” Daryl went to sit beside her on the couch just in case she did let herself get too far into her own head.

She was biting her lip again when she looked up and nodded at him. Just like last night, he couldn’t stop himself and gently used his thumb to pull her full lower lip from between her teeth. 

“Yer gonna put a hole through that lip if ya don’t quit that.” Daryl suddenly remembered that he shouldn’t be doing shit like that and started to pull away, but Beth grabbed his hand and tugged him slightly closer to her, forcing him to lean over her. He rested his free arm on the top of the couch, hoping she wasn’t expecting him to say something. 

Her next question caught him off guard: “Do you regret havin’ to be here with me? Or do I just annoy you?”

Had he really been that much of an ass to her this whole time that she was worried those were the only options having to do with what he felt about her?

“It’s just… I was stupid that day. After you killed Gareth and I kissed you,” she muttered, shaking her head bashfully. “It wasn’t because you killed him and like, I was thankin’ you for it. I just… wanted to. At the moment. You’ve been so nice, lettin’ me sleep down here with you and takin’ such good care of me, but then everytime you do somethin’ that could make me think I’m not just actin’ stupid like this all on my own—well, you look like somebody just told ya the worst news and then you stiffen up and get away as fast as you can. In the morning, you jump outta bed as quick as possible, like you need to get away from me. So just tell me if I’m annoying, or if yer ready to be done with me. I can ha—”

“Beth, shut up fer just one second.” He’d never heard anyone say so many words without taking a breath before and he was worried that she was going to stop breathing before he had a chance to tell her to stop being stupid. 

“No, I mean, just tell me,” she insisted. “Because I’m sorry if I’ve been makin’ you uncomfortable all this time.”

Daryl was able to put a hand over her mouth before she could get on a roll again, and then he did something that usually required a lot more alcohol.

“I’m gonna move my hand, but yer not gonna start talkin’ yer nonsense again when I do. Alrigh’?” Beth gave a mumbled answer that sounded like an ‘okay’ from behind his hand. He slowly moved his hand away and lowered his head until his mouth was an inch away from hers. “If you start talkin’, it’s gonna make it hard as hell ta kiss ya, so… don’t.”

Before she had a chance to say anything, he closed the distance and pressed his lips against hers. He tried to keep it quick and light, but Beth pushed herself up towards him, her lips pressing harder against his. He was going to do everything in his power to stop her from chewing on that damn bottom lip from here on out, because she shouldn’t be abusing something so soft and perfect that way.

This wasn’t going any farther right now, not here after she just went on what he’d most likely call a tangent. He had every intention of possibly picking this back up later tonight—maybe these damn fireflies both Beth and Ozzy were so excited about would actually be worth it. 

Daryl put his hands on the sides of her face and pulled back, chuckling softly when she tried to chase after him. “I want to be here. You do annoy me, but I’m startin’ ta like it. I just don’t have a single fuckin’ clue what ta do with somebody like you. Yer a little outta my league, Greene.”

He didn’t realize that she’d wound her fingers through some of the hair near the nape of his neck until she gave a soft tug and made sure that he kept his eyes locked on hers.

“Stop sayin’ that shit about yourself, Daryl Dixon. I keep tellin’ ya what a good man you are. Now do I need ta start sighing and squirmin’ again like I did last night, or are ya gonna kiss me again?” The look she gave him… girl was damn proud of herself. 

He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on her pink lips and then pulled away before she got more ideas and ended up talking him into something. 

“That’s all ya get. We got work ta do. Gotta figure out what the hell we’re walkin’ in to.” He grabbed the journal and the pen he’d been using and tossed them next to her before getting up and grabbing her phone off the nightstand where she’d left it.

When he looked back at her, she was giving him a smile he’d yet to see from her. This one made every nerve in his body light up. This girl was probably gonna be the death of him.

Totally and completely  _ fucked _ . And he was gonna love every fucking minute of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this would be the chapter you've all been waiting for, but... well these two had other things in mind. I'm working on the next chapter right now and there are fireflies and some other activities...  
> Thank you all for reading. Comments are always appreciated!


	25. Firefly Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireflies... Smut... Surprise Guests!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, this chapter finally includes those tags up there for "Explicit Sexual Content" YAY!!!!!! There's no turning back now! I really hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's the one that I've looked forward to and the one that I've feared the most! Thank you to my beta and partner in fanfic crime SquishyCool! She held my hand through this and really helped me to get this chapter where I wanted it to be!  
> I'm hoping to get chapters out a little more regularly, but this month has a bit of a snag. My 93 year old grandma has been in poor health and only my mom has stepped up to the plate to be her full time care giver. I decided to make the trip from Colorado to Missouri and help my mom out for a few weeks. Writing might not be happening as frequently as I would like. That being said I'm already halfway through the next two chapters...

**Firefly Glow**

Daryl kissed her, and not some adrenaline-fueled, moment of spontaneity kiss—an actual slow-motion kiss. Granted he might have been trying to shut her up, but something in the way he looked at her and the way his hands lingered on her face told her that it was genuine.

He also hadn't dismissed the possibility of more kissing. 

"So was the fireflies bein' tonight just a happy accident?” Beth asked with a head tilt in Daryl's direction. “Or did’ja know somehow?" 

They'd been sitting on the couch gathering as much information as they could on Aaron, Eric, Deanna, Reg, and their sons. Until Beth's stomach made a noise that might not have been human. Daryl had actually jumped a bit and then headed to the kitchen, mumbling something about “ _ girl’s stomach louder than her.” _

A comfortable silence enveloped them as they ate the grilled cheese sandwiches Daryl’d made until she finally asked the question she'd been wanting an answer to all morning.

“How’d you know I loved fireflies?” She asked softly.

"Whadd'ya mean?" He answered, looking confused and licking a bit of melted cheese off his fingers. The sight of his fingers in his mouth distracted Beth so much, Daryl had to ask her again.

"Did ya know how much I love fireflies? I've used ‘em as a way to encourage myself and keep from fallin' into a dark place. I even have a tattoo." She turned around and lifted up the back of her shirt to reveal the tattoo she'd had done after she'd cut her wrist.

Eight fireflies, flying up and around her spine. She loved each little bug inked into the skin of her back. 

She felt Daryl trace their path down her spine with his calloused finger. Just that light touch caused her body to shiver.

"I've always loved ‘em,” she continued. “When I was really little an’ scared of the dark, Maggie would take me out to the fields and we’d catch ‘em in our mason jars. Maggie would always give me hers so I’d have two jars to use as nightlights. I'm not sure if she snuck into my room before I woke up to empty the jars, or if it was Daddy, but they always told me the bugs had to 'recharge.’ Then the next night, we'd do it again. They’ve always been my personal protection from the scary stuff." She was trying to blink back the tears that had started to form, but a few escaped her eyes and tracked down her face, dripping onto her jeans. 

Maybe tonight would be the sign that she needed. The sign that she was protected again. That she was safe.

Daryl admitted, “I didn’ have a clue ya loved ‘em, just somethin’ Ozzy told me. I guess I jus’ thought it sounded like somethin’ you’d enjoy.”

Beth noticed that the tips of his ears had gotten just a little pinker. It was probably mean, but she liked that he blushed when he found out he’d done something right. 

She was leaning towards him, hoping he’d get the hint again, because she wasn’t opposed to more kissing. 

_ KNOCK! _ _  
_ _ KNOCK! _ _  
_ _ KNOCK! _

Daryl let out an exasperated huff, knowing that it could really only be one person. “I swear that fuckin’ man thinks he’s helpin’, but all he does is interrupt.”

With an eye-roll and a small smile for Beth, he pushed off from the couch and walked to the door. Just as they’d expected, Ozzy was standing on the other side, grinning.

“Hope I wasn’t interruptin’ nothin’,” he greeted. “I just wanted ta drop somethin’ off.” He held out a plastic bag to Daryl.

Daryl started. “Actua—”

“Actually, we were just talkin’ ‘bout you, Ozzy!” Beth interjected. “I was tellin’ Daryl how excited I was to see the fireflies tonight. Thank you fer tellin’ him about it. You’ve been so sweet to us after everythin’ that’s happened.” 

The Park Ranger turned bright red. She had to admit, she was enjoying the effect she was having on these men today. She looked over at Daryl and gave him a big grin, receiving another eye roll in return. 

Ozzy nodded and went on, “Well, I uh, was just thinkin’ that grill on the back porch hasn’t been used in a few months, and I was hopin’ you’d make sure it was still in good workin’ order for me. Brought some steaks and some vegetables. Had to go to the store anyhow.” He pointed to the plastic bag that he’d handed to Daryl, a slightly sheepish look on his face.

Beth doubted that he’d absolutely needed to go to the store. Maybe he was lonely up here on this mountain by himself and he enjoyed having their company. 

“Oh, Ozzy, ya didn’t need to do any of that for us!” Beth beamed. “Will you join us fer dinner then?”

Daryl shot her an annoyed look that she promptly ignored. She knew Ozzy wouldn't take them up on the offer, but she’d been raised to make the offer regardless and she wasn’t about to forget her manners. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Ozzy quickly responded, shaking his head and appearing even more sheepish. “I’ve intruded on y’all’s honeymoon more’an enough these past few days. I just wanted to drop this off… consider it a wedding present! I’ve gotta be down in the main part of the park tonight. Make sure people don’t get crazy or do anythin’ stupid. The gate a few miles down the road’s gonna be closed, so ya don’t gotta worry about stragglers comin’ up here.”

With that, the older man was turning to walk out the door. But Beth quickly called out to him.

“Wait!” She limped/hopped over to him as fast as she could and gave him a big hug, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Yer amazing, Ozzy. You’ve made this honeymoon the best we could’ve asked for! One day, ya gotta come have dinner with us. Before we leave. Promise me?”

His face turned even more red and he chuckled awkwardly. “I would very much like that, Miss Beth. But I’d better get outta here. The tourists are gonna be streaming in soon. Oh, and there’s a flannel blanket in that closet if ya wanna sit outside and watch the show tonight. Might be even better than sittin’ upstairs!” He winked at Daryl and made his way down the front steps, waving over his shoulder as he made his way back towards his cabin.

Beth watched him leave before turning to Daryl, still smiling. “Say what ya want about him, Daryl, but I like him. And he brought us wine earlier, and now a full-on steak dinner!”

She hobbled over and grabbed the bag out of Daryl’s hand. “Let’s see what he brought and get those steaks marinating. Tonight’s gonna be amazing!”

And she meant that. Because right now, she didn’t care what they were going to find out, or what would happen in that phone call later with Aaron. Even if it was just for a few hours, she and Daryl were going to have a perfect night.

* * *

They moved out to the deck and set up for dinner. Daryl was grilling the steaks along with some asparagus, red peppers, and corn on the cob. Beth had thrown a salad together and left it chilling in the fridge. She decided to bring the guitar out with her while she kept him company. She'd offered to do the grilling, but he told her that was his job and she’d better stay away. She could sit out there with him, but she “better not touch his damn grill.”

Beth hadn't intended to play anything, just strum a few chords. Just to have a little music to break up the silence.

Daryl watched her from the corner of his eye for a few minutes before he spoke up. "Ya just gonna mess with that thing, or ya gonna play me somethin'?"

"Got any requests, Mr. Dixon?" She had a song in mind, but she thought she’d better ask.

"Long as it ain't Taylor Swift, you just play on."

It took Beth a few chords to get it right, but soon she was strumming along. And before she could stop herself, she was singing the song that had been in her head all day.

_ “He was working through college on my grandpa's farm, _ _  
_ _ I was thirsting for knowledge, and he had a car, _ _  
_ _ I was caught somewhere between a woman and a child, _ _  
_ _ When one restless summer, we found love growing wild, _ _  
_ _ On the banks of the river on a well-beaten path, _ _  
_ _ It's funny how those memories, they last. _ _  
_ _ Like strawberry wine and seventeen…” _

Beth risked a glance over at Daryl and found him staring at her, enthralled. His eyes had taken on a deep blue color and she thought if she got close enough, she could drown in them. His face though—she couldn't read his expression… maybe it was confusion?

_ “I still remember when thirty was old, _ _  
_ _ And my biggest fear was September, when he had to go, _ _  
_ _ A few cards and letters and one long-distance call, _ _  
_ _ We drifted away like the leaves in the fall. _ _  
_ _ But year after year I come back to this place, _ _  
_ _ Just to remember the taste, _ _  
_ _ Of strawberry wine and seventeen…” _

After that one time looking at him, she'd been afraid to look again, but now she wasn't singing and she had to glance up. The look on his face resembled…  _ awe _ ? Did Daryl Dixon ever look at someone with awe?

He cleared his throat and looked away quickly. "Ya know anything's that's  _ not _ a mushy love song?" He was smirking as he said it, so she knew he was joking.

Beth thought for a second and then remembered a song she'd heard a few times. It just so happened to fit perfectly. It took her a few tries to get the right set of cords, then she began belting out the lyrics.

_ “Well I got friends from Colorado, _ _  
_ _ I got friends from Tennessee, _ _  
_ _ So I got something in a bottle, _ _  
_ _ And I got something from a seed, _ _  
_ _ Since you said you didn't love me, _ _  
_ _ Since you hung me out to dry, _ _  
_ _ I've been drunk up in the Smokies, _ _  
_ _ On a Rocky Mountain high…” _

She jumped when Daryl let out an honest to goodness laugh. 

"Ask and ye shall receive, huh?” He shook his head, smirking. “Think we can put ya on pause for a bit so we can eat?"

The smells from the grill hit her nose and once again, Beth’s stomach let them both know just how hungry she was by letting out a unhuman growling sound.

“Nevermind,” he grunted. “I’m takin’ that fer a yes. Go grab the plates an’ stuff from the kitchen while I finish up, we can eat out here. It's a good night for it.”

She was glad that he suggested it before she did. It just seemed like that’s what tonight needed—dinner on the deck overlooking the pond while taking in the mountain air. Something she was starting to notice that Daryl thrived on. 

They made random small talk while they fixed their plates and began eating. Beth decided right then that Daryl was going to have to grill more often. The steak was amazing and the vegetables Ozzy had brought over paired perfectly.

She decided to take that moment to break up the melancholy with a question that had been on her mind for a few days now. “Daryl, are you nervous about all of this? With everythin’ we’ve learned the past few days, and everything we’re pro’lly still about to learn… Doesn’t it make ya nervous at all?”

Daryl squinted at her and chewed the bite of food in his mouth slower, more thoughtfully, before swallowing and taking a drink of his beer. Then he replied, “Nah, Whatever we find out, we’ll deal with it. Ain’t concerned with learnin’ much more ‘bout my family. I’m sure the old man had a few secrets he kept close ta the vest, but I ain’t worried. Why? Are you?”

She nodded her head and took a moment to gather her thoughts before she answered. “I feel like Maggie and my parents told me everything they thought I should know and then Daddy’s letter gave me some more insight, but I think they’re still tryin’ to protect me from the truth. It seems like Daddy wasn’t just respected, but he was  _ feared _ . I dunno if I  _ wanna _ know the things he did to instill that fear into people.”

Daryl’s eyes were boring into hers and making her feel like he was trying to read her mind. Like he knew she wasn’t telling him everything. 

“My dad was a mob boss, I know what that means,” she clarified. “I’ve seen him standin’ over a dead body. I’m just not sure I’m ready to know about  _ all  _ the bodies.” She shrugged her shoulders and broke their eye contact to stare out at the pond, grabbing her beer and taking a long swig. Hoping it would calm the uneasy feeling that had been building, especially when she thought about what she might soon learn from Aaron. 

She was startled out of her thoughts when Daryl reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “Yer dad is always gonna be yer dad. The one ya grew up with and the man that raised ya. He mighta done some shit that ain’t so pretty, and hearin’ about it might scare ya, but it shouldn’ change how you remember him. I knew yer dad fer a long time. He demanded respect. His presence alone did that… But he was also a fair, considerate, and caring man. Maybe ‘cause I never crossed him, that’s why I never feared him. But if anybody feared him, they prol’ly had damn good reason to.”

It didn’t escape her notice that he was still holding her hand and had tightened his grip. Beth gave him the best smile she could muster and nodded, silently grateful for those encouraing words.

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s get this cleaned up and put that blanket down. I don’ wanna miss a minute of this firefly show!”

She grabbed her plate and the platter they’d tossed the vegetables onto and Daryl quickly followed with his own plate and their empty beer bottles. Minutes later, they had the dishes in the dishwasher and the kitchen clean. 

Daryl was back on the patio cleaning up the grill when he stuck his head in to call out, “Grab that bottle of wine that’s on the table. Don’ want Ozzy ta think we didn’ appreciate the gift.”

She grabbed the wine and two glasses and then, as a second thought, some of the throw pillows from the couch. They would be on the blanket and it didn’t look like rain so there was really no chance of them getting messed up. When she got outside, Daryl had already made himself comfortable right in the middle of the banket. So she propped two of the pillows behind him and slowly turned, trying to figure out where she was going to sit.

He was watching her with an amused gaze, but then he rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand gently, pulling her down to sit between his legs and letting her lean back against his chest. He’d placed the blanket close to the wall of the house, adding the extra pillows, and leaned them both back.

“Comfy?” He had his hands braced slightly to his side and was looking down at her.

Afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she answered, she just nodded before leaning back against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Feeling particularly bold, she reached down and laced her fingers through his and brought them around her waist. She couldn't see his face, but she thought she felt the upturn of a smile against her ear. 

Daryl pulled his hands away and Beth was about to give a little pout, but she stopped herself when he reached over for the bottle of wine and the glasses. Glad that she’d also remembered to grab the corkscrew, she had no intention of moving from this spot for a long time. He handed her a glass and poured one for himself before setting the bottle off of the blanket. He wrapped his free arm back around her and the happiness and warmth that shot through her with that little gesture managed to temporarily erase all of the fears that she’d had earlier.

Dusk was just starting to set in and shadows were slowly creeping across the pond. A small yellow light to her left caught her eye, rapidly blinking in and out of view.

“Daryl!” She tried to keep her voice to a whisper, but there was something charged about this moment that was making her excited.

“Mmhmm,” was all the answer she got, but his arm tightened just the slightest bit around her waist. 

One flickering light turned into four, and then twenty and fifty and at least a hundred. Suddenly, it was like the entire mountain was lit up with tiny little lights. There had to be thousands of fireflies, all blinking on and off in perfect synchronicity.

Beth and Daryl sat in complete silence for thirty minutes, watching the performance the little bugs were putting on. Sometimes, Beth felt like it was just for her, and then she would feel Daryl take a breath or feel his heartbeat against her back, and she was convinced it was actually for them both. Giving them a small moment of happiness and peace in this mess their lives had become. Daryl had gradually moved his chin to rest against her shoulder. His breath was warm against her ear and every exhale caused the small hairs that had escaped her ponytail to tickle the sides of her neck. 

Sometimes, she would be thinking about a song and just start humming the melody. Tonight was no different. Almost as soon as she’d seen that first little light and started feeling the way she was feeling—so happy in Daryl’s arms—one of her favorite songs had started running through her head. At some point, she’d started to quietly hum.

“Don’t jus’ keep it to yerself, add some words ta that song, girl.” Daryl’s voice directly in her ear caused her to jump, and knowing his mouth was that close to her ear made  _ other _ parts of her start to come alive. He’d thrown her off a bit so she had to try and remember what song had been running through her head.

_ “I wanna feel it like a kick drum, beating faster in your chest _ _  
_ _ And tonight I wanna drive so far we'll only find static on the radio _ _  
_ _ And we can't see those city lights and I love the way you look in a firefly glow _ _  
_ _ Saying everything without making a sound, _ _  
_ _ A river rolling in the background, underneath a harvest moon _ _  
_ _ Standing on your shoes in my bare feet, dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat _ _  
_ _ And we're dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat…” _

She was grateful that was the end of the song, because just as she sang the last word, she felt his lips right behind her ear, gently pressing against the pressure point right there. A small gasp escaped from her mouth and she leaned back further into him, tilting her head slightly and giving him more access to her neck. A barely-there laugh came from behind her, but then his mouth was gently tracking down her neck towards her shoulder. He smoothly nosed her shirt to the side so he could close his mouth around the juncture where her shoulder met her neck and lightly bit down, quickly following the sting with his tongue to soothe the spot. 

“Daryl…” She found herself gasping again, but for a vastly different reason. Her hand had moved to his knee and she slowly slid it up to his thigh, giving it a determined squeeze.

“Hmmm…” He was too busy working his way back up her neck to answer. She shivered as both of his hands wrapped around her waist, encouraging her to turn around in his lap.

It took a minute for her to find a comfortable spot for her ankle, even though she wasn’t feeling a bit of pain from it. She was pressed right up against him when her mouth landed on his. Both of them eased into the kiss, and then his tongue ran along the seam of her lips and she willingly opened her mouth to him. Beth grabbed the back of his neck and pushed her mouth against his even harder than she had earlier. Her exuberance caused their teeth to click together and their foreheads to smack. Daryl slowed her down with a hand on each side of her face and then methodically mapped her mouth with his tongue, causing little whimpers to somehow come from her mouth, even as tightly as she had it sealed to his. 

Beth slowly rocked her hips down, grinding herself down onto his obvious erection. He pulled back with a shocked gasp, gripping her shoulders and pushing her slightly away.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “It was all just feelin’ so good, and—”

Daryl cut her off with one finger against her lips. “Don’t apologize, jus’ don’ wanna be doin’ this out’n the open. Ozzy tends to show up at the worst time, and I sure as hell don’t want any mosquito bites on my ass.”

Beth let out a relieved giggle, then Daryl was pulling her in again and pressing a small kiss to her lips. “Let’s get this stuff inside and then yer more than welcome to pick up right where ya left off.”

She started to jump up, but his hands on her shoulders held her down. “Nope, don’ go jumpin’ around and fuckin’ up that ankle again. Gonna put one hell of a damper on things if ya do that.”

She slowly got up and grabbed the wine and glasses that they’d barely touched. She glanced over her shoulder to where Daryl was haphazardly folding up the blanket and then downed the rest of her glass. She was sure she didn’t  _ need _ the liquid courage, but it couldn’t hurt. 

Once inside the house, Daryl threw the blanket and pillows onto the couch before turning and grabbing the bottle and glasses from Beth and setting them on the kitchen counter. Then he was on her in a second, lifting her up and carrying her to his bed. He set them on the edge so she was straddling his lap again.

His lips and tongue were like flames against hers. Every kiss felt like sparklers firing up her brain. His hands were inching up the back of her shirt before he grasped the hem, moving back just enough to pull it over her head and toss it behind him. His mouth was back on hers while he worked the clasp on her lacy pink bra. Daryl pulled it over her shoulder and let it fall between them. He gave her bottom lip a quick bite before pulling back, his eyes taking in the sight of her sitting on top of him, bare from the waist up. Beth relished in how his blue eyes got darker and his pupils dilated, leaving a small ring of sapphire amidst the black.

Years of insecurity came rushing back under his gaze and she brought her hands up to cover her breasts. Wishing for the hundredth time that she was more like Maggie in that regard. “I know… they’re small…”

Daryl scoffed and gently pulled her hands away, bringing them around his neck. “Nah, they’re perfect.” He lowered his head and kissed the valley between them. He let his mouth drag towards her right nipple, circling it with his wet tongue before kissing it lightly. He moved his head to the left, giving the other nipple the same treatment. “Fuckin’ perfect,” he groaned out. 

His lips trailed back to her hardened peak and wrapped his mouth around it, sucking gently. The sensation sent a lightning bolt of pleasure straight between her legs. “Fuck, Daryl, that feels amazing.” She ground herself harder over the stiff bulge barely contained within his jeans.

His mouth was back on her neck as his thumb and fingers wrapped around her pink nipples, pinching and twirling them, building the pressure up inside of her. His moans joined hers as she writhed on top of him. He broke away, putting way too much distance between them for her liking.

“Where’d ya put those condoms?” They were both trying to catch their breath and it took her a few seconds to make sense of what he’d said. 

“In my backpack… upstairs.” She groaned, knowing that one of them was going to have to actually go up there and get them. Daryl helped her to her feet before standing up himself, trying to readjust so he could make it up the stairs.

“Don’t fuckin’ move a muscle,” he growled. Then he took the stairs two at a time, returning within seconds.

He tore the top off the box and threw the square packets onto the bed, then he pulled his shirt off before sitting back down on the edge. Daryl pulled her back between his legs and palmed her cunt through her jeans, applying pressure just where she needed it. A high-pitched whine tore from her throat as she tried to grind the inseam of her jeans against her clit. Desperate for more than she was getting. 

Daryl slid his hand up to the button on her jeans and worked it free before lowering the zipper. Beth bit her lip as he slowly worked the denim down her hips. Then he abruptly stopped. 

“Beth… Where the fuck’re yer panties?” He pushed the material the rest of the way down her legs and helped her to work them off her bad ankle before pushing them away with his foot. Leaving her completely naked to his roaming eyes.

“Needed to do laundry,” she replied with a shrug.

He was shaking his head and rolling his eyes as he brought her back onto his lap. “Guess that makes it my lucky day.”

Beth felt a surge of confidence race through her and she captured his lips again. She ground her hips down against him and his hands went to her waist, helping to guide her, encouraging her movements before slipping one hand over to grab onto her ass and sliding his right hand between them. She let out a sigh when his fingertips parted her folds. She couldn’t find the words she wanted, so she went to work licking, sucking, and kissing her way along his collarbone and up to the shell of his ear.

“More, Daryl,” she whispered. “I need  _ more _ .” She felt him shudder beneath her.

Her chest was heaving and she knew her moans had begun to sound desperate as Daryl’s fingers slid through her soaked pussy. He alternated between circling her clit and then sliding down to let just the tips of his fingers dip inside her. She rolled her hips, trying to get more. 

Daryl pressed his lips to her neck and drug his teeth along the spot he’d marked earlier. Beth cried out, feeling like every nerve ending in her body was on fire. 

“Daryl, please.  _ Please… _ ” She didn’t know what she was begging for, she just knew she needed more of whatever he was doing.

He shifted the angle of his hand and pushed two fingers inside of her, making her whimper and grind herself down. His thumb pressed against her clit and she rode his hand desperately. Gasps were falling from her lips and she felt her muscles tense, the pleasure building up to a fever pitch inside of her. He curled his fingers inside her cunt and increased the pressure on his thumb, finally pushing her over that edge. She tried to muffle the cry that he was being yanked from her body by burying her face in his neck.

Then she was falling. Her legs were shaking against his and her muscles quivering with her release. 

Daryl slowly brought her down, his fingers still inside her until her breathing evened out. “I gotcha, girl. I gotcha.”

He pulled his hand from between her legs and wrapped both arms around her, turning them over so he could lay her down on the bed. She couldn’t stop the small thrill that went through her when he stuck his two fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean right before her eyes.

Her hand landed on the condoms he’d thrown on the bed and she lifted one up, slightly shaking it. “I think yer gonna need ta take yer pants off for this next part.” That earned her a genuine Daryl Dixon smile. He slid off the bed and dropped his pants to the floor. Followed by his black boxer briefs.

“I see you didn’t get the no underwear memo, Mr. Dixon,” she teased.

The joking was helping to distract her from the naked man in front of her. She’d only been with two other men, and Jimmy and Gareth didn’t compare to what she was seeing between Daryl’s legs. He wasn’t scary long, like Maggie had once tried to convince her a guy she’d dated in college was, but he was thick. Thick enough that she knew she was going to feel every moment of this, even after they were done.

She ripped the square packet open with her teeth while he climbed back on the bed and made his way towards her.

Daryl grabbed the open package from her hand and settled himself between her thighs. “Ya sure?”

Beth lunged up to press her lips to his. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

He sat back on his heels and quickly rolled the condom over his length. She spread her legs farther to wrap around his waist as he came back down to her. His left hand gripped her hip while his right hand took his hard cock in hand and drug it through her dripping cunt. He positioned himself at her entrance and in one firm thrust, he was inside of her. She was wet enough that he was able to slide into her fully, his breath coming in deep gasps, dropping his head to her shoulder.

She’d been right in her assumption: she could feel him  _ everywhere _ , stretching her right to that perfect spot of pain that turned into pleasure. It felt like hours, but it was only seconds that he just stayed there, firmly inside of her. And she was squirming below him, chasing another high.

“Daryl, move. Fuck— _ please _ !”

“Gimme a minute, girl,” he panted against her neck. “Yer fuckin’ tight as hell… jus’ hold on, else this is gonna be over way too soon.”

She tried to stay still as possible, but it was becoming impossible. Thankfully, Daryl started to move his hips, sliding almost completely out of her before thrusting back inside. He slid one arm down and hooked his elbow under her knee, opening her up to him. His thrusts were becoming harder and faster, almost taking her breath away. The pleasure that had been slowly building was reaching a fever pitch inside of her. She needed that one final push to send her over the edge. Untangling her arm from around his neck, she slowly slid her hand between their bodies, finding her clit swollen and sensitive to the touch. 

Daryl raised up on his arm to watch himself slide inside of her, and her slim fingers working herself into a frenzy. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and Beth used her free hand to push it out of his eyes, wanting to see the look on his face. His mouth was set in a tight line, his eyes closed until he felt her hand on his face. Then blue locked on blue and Beth was gone. She didn’t even try to be quiet this time. Nonsense and feral noises ripped from her throat as she arched up into him, her body thrumming like an electric current had just been shot through her. 

Daryl’s thrusts had lost their rhythm and become erratic. One final thrust and he stilled inside her. What could only be called a growl echoed through the small alcove. He wrapped his arm around her and rolled to his side, taking her with him.

They lay there, pressed together, both of them trying to catch their breath, eyes locked in what was possibly the most intimate moment of Beth’s twenty-plus years. 

“That was… amazin’,” she panted out. “I don’t think I can move.” She buried her face into the pillow that was below her head.

“Don’t gotta go anywhere. I’m happy right here,” he assured. “Yer right, Greene. That was fuckin’ amazing.”

Beth gave a little whimper as she felt him slide out of her.

“I lied,” he said. “I gotta move, but you stay here.”

With a groan, he stood up from the bed and found his boxer briefs on the floor before heading into the bathroom. The light from the moon streaming in the windows gave her a perfect view of his ass. She wasn’t sure what she liked more—his butt, or those broad shoulders that she wanted to explore a little bit more. 

Daryl came back out and headed for the kitchen. “Ya want somethin’ ta drink?”

“Yes, please!” She called as she got out of bed as easily as she could. Her ankle wasn’t bothering her at all. Must have been the dopamine from two intense orgasms.

Looking around for where Daryl had thrown her panites, she remembered she hadn’t been wearing any. Well, he’d already seen it all now. She hobbled to the bathroom to pee and clean up as best she could. He was already back in bed when she finished She shyly walked back to the bed, her bravado from a few minutes already gone. There was a bottle of water on the nightstand and her cell phone was already on the bed.

Aaron! Damn, she’d forgotten about him and all of the drama in her life for the past few hours. 

“Y’shouldn’t ever wear clothes again,” Daryl remarked teasingly. He gave her a smirk before reaching over to turn off the light on his side of the bed. 

“I’m sure Ozzy would have somethin’ to say about that when he inevitably shows up,” she said. Sliding between the sheets, she turned the light on her side off and scooted towards Daryl. He lifted his arm so she could lay her head on his shoulder. “I almost forgot about Aaron… Guess we have to get back to real life now.”

He grunted in agreement. “Time fer you to be the Head Bitch in Charge again.”

She’d just started to laugh when her phone lit up. She snapped her mouth shut and peered over at the screen. The same number from last night. 

Beth grabbed the phone and slid the green button, promptly hitting the speaker button. “Hello?”

“Beth, I’m hoping you’ve decided to come to D.C. Sorry to get right to the point, but I can’t be gone too long tonight.”

Daryl gave her a small nod. They’d already decided to go; they just had to be a little more on their guard now that they knew more about this guy. 

“Yes, we’ll be there in a week,” she replied. “Can’t be any sooner.”

“ _ We _ ?” Aaron repeated. “Someone is coming with you?”

That made Beth even more suspicious. Why would he care if she was bringing someone?

“Yes. He’s helping me with everything. I trust him. Where should we meet you?”

The quick look of surprise that passed over Daryl’s face made Beth’s heart skip a little. Was he really not used to people trusting him?

Aaron responded, “There’s a bar called Alexandria. I’ll meet you there. One week from tonight. Ten PM.”

The call disconnected. 

He really wasn’t one for chit-chat. And Beth was pretty sure this cloak and dagger routine was going to get obnoxious at some point. 

She glanced back at Daryl and sighed. “Well, guess we’ve got our plans. Hopefully he’ll be more forthcoming in person.” She scooted back into his arms. “Ya know, I was tellin’ the truth, Daryl… I really do trust you. More than anybody else in my life.”

His lips settled on the top of her head and his arms tightened around her. “Me too, Greene. Ya might be the only person I’d trust with my life… Now get some sleep.”

* * *

Loud banging brought Beth to consciousness. She’d been having the best sleep she’d had in weeks. Daryl jumped out of bed, his protective senses on full alert. Without him, her head bounced off the mattress.

She groaned, annoyed. “Who the hell is bangin’ on the door at six in the morning?”

She didn’t so much get an answer as a grunt. Daryl was searching for his shirt, and when he couldn’t find it, he gave up and grabbed a wifebeater off the top of his bag. 

“That man’s gotta learn some damn boundaries,” he grumbled, aggravated.

He was already across the room, throwing the door open and preparing to give the good-natured—but slightly  _ clueless _ —Park Ranger a piece of his mind.

“What the fu—”

Beth sat straight up, and the sheet that had been wrapped around her slid down to pool around her waist. Staring back at her was an older, rough-looking man she thought she’d might’ve seen before. And the pale blue eyes of Rick Grimes. 

What she could only call a squeak came out of her mouth as she threw herself back into bed and pulled the sheets over her head.

Beth prayed she wouldn’t die of embarrassment, because she didn’t want the last thing she ever heard to be, “ _ Hoo-ee _ li’l brother, would’ja look’t that! I could’n be prouder!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy at this point. Thank you to everyone that reads this little fic of mine and comments on it. You all truly make my day when I get a notification! It's the things like getting a comment or a kudo that help make this time a little happier. 
> 
> Songs used in this chapter:  
> Strawberry Wine - Deana Carter  
> Colorado - Florida Georgia Line  
> Heartbeat - Carrie Underwood
> 
> Stay Safe!


	26. Rage Against the Dying of the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Rick hash a few things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? Things got out of hand in my life. I've had family sick and things just went to hell, but the good news if I'm back! This fic is back. An apology for being so late with this update I'm posting two chapters tonight! Thank you so much for staying with me and I'm going to do my absolute best to make sure there isn't a break like that in the future.   
> Like always, thank you so much to my beta SquishyCool. She really got me back into the writing mind frame and kept encouraging me until I got here.

**Rage Against the Dying of the Light**

“ _ Hoo-ee _ li’l brother, would’ja look’t that! I could’n be prouder!”

Merle's gaze had been right over Daryl's shoulder, and he could only imagine what he and Rick got an eyeful of. The only thing he could think to do was slam the door in their faces and get dressed as quickly as possible. He'd have to deal with the sheriff and his recently resurrected brother.

_ Fuck,  _ he hadn't even been able to process that part yet. How the hell was Merle standing on a porch in the mountains of Tennessee when he was supposed to be in a morgue in Georgia?

Beth had jumped out of bed as soon as he'd shut the door and it seemed like she was moving faster than she'd been able to since hurting her ankle. Mortification must be a good painkiller.

"Was that Rick and… yer brother? Do you have another brother?" She questioned him as she pulled her shirt from the night before over her head.

Damn, this wasn't how you were supposed to spend the "morning after." He should've been making breakfast or convincing her not to get up instead of making sure she was sufficiently covered before he opened that fucking door again.

"Nope, just that one. Very much alive an' very much out there." As he spoke, it sounded like something was happening outside the door. Looking over at Beth and seeing she was completely covered again, he strode back to the door and opened it with more force than necessary to see that, as if on cue, Ozzy had joined the crew on the porch.

"Was in the shower when I heard the motion detector go off, Daryl. I tried to get up here faster, but…" The ranger gestured to his clothes while giving a small shrug.

Merle grinned. "Ya could'a come up here in all yer glory. Already got a good look at blondie in there, so you'd've fit right in." He was smiling and laughing more than any dead man should, but judging by the look on the sheriff's face when Beth had been mentioned, Daryl was going to have to deal with that situation first.

"S'alright, Ozzy,” Daryl assured. “This is my brother an’ a friend from home. They're good. Do me a favor, would’ja? Keep Beth an’ my brother company while Rick an’ I talk out here." He hoped the look he was giving Ozzy was enough to tell the man to keep a close eye on his brother. Especially around Beth.

Ozzy seemed to catch on and nodded his head slowly while opening the front door. "Yeah, sure. Happy to spend a li’l more time with the missus."

Daryl glared at Merle until he followed Ozzy into the cabin. Merle was Mumbling to himself about “not getting any love from his brother.”

Rick had gone down the porch stairs and was standing next to Daryl's truck. The rage was very apparent in his eyes when he said, "Show me where ya dumped the body." He walked to the passenger side and got in without another word, slamming the door harder than needed.

Daryl was starting down the stairs when the front door opened. He turned around to see Beth standing in the doorway. "You okay?" She whispered, like she didn't want anyone inside or out to hear but him.

" _ Mmhmm _ ." He gave her a small smile, hoping it would reassure her. "I'm takin' Rick to where we left Gareth. Stay here. I'm sorry—for my brother earlier and for leavin' ya with him now." 

She glanced over her shoulder and then walked with only a slight limp to the top of the stairs, where she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, "Don't let Rick give ya any shit. You can make it all up ta me when ya get back." The smile she gave him before turning to go back into the house made him want to kick the three stooges out and take her back to bed.

He could feel Rick's eyes boring into the back of his head. No time like the present to deal with this shit show.

* * *

Rick apparently didn’t want to deal with things right away. No, the sheriff wanted to stare out the passenger window with a pissed-off look on his face, angrily tapping his fingers against his leg. Well, he could be pissed off. Shit, he had every right to be, walking in on what he had. But Daryl had a right to be pissed off as well. Rick had told him that his brother was dead. Then a few days later, he shows up with Merle at his side, alive and ornery as ever. 

“Ya gonna get it off yer chest or just sit there actin’ like a pissed-off woman?” Might as well just rip the Band-Aid off.

Rick whipped his head around to look at Daryl. His light blue eyes were like steel, but it wasn’t the look of a cop. No, it was the look of an angry father. Daryl wasn’t dealing with Sheriff Grimes, he was dealing with Rick Grimes, the surrogate father to the girl Daryl had just spent one hell of a night with. 

“I asked you to protect her,” Rick said, his voice rising with fury. “ _ PROTECT HER, DARYL! _ How in the  _ FUCK _ did protecting her turn into fucking her? Huh?! That girl just lost her daddy, she’s got no clue when she’ll see her sister again, and you get her up in this cabin in the mountain and within  _ DAYS, _ you’ve killed a man. And then what better way to celebrate that than by getting her naked? I trusted you with her and ya took  _ advantage _ of her!”

Daryl had heard enough. He slammed his foot down on the brake as hard as he could. The back end of the truck fishtailed along the dirt road before coming to a jarring halt. 

“Get out.” Daryl pointed to the road in front of him. “Get outta the fuckin’ truck. If we’re gonna do this, yer gonna say it all ta my face. Get the fuck out.”

Daryl was already in front of the truck when Rick met him, getting right up in his face, ready to start his tirade again. Daryl wasn’t going to let him get that far though. A few years ago, he might have. But he’d learned to stand up for himself since then. He was already doubting everything about what he’d done with Beth the night before. Rick was just saying what he’d already been saying to himself during the silent drive. That wasn’t for him to do. No, self flagellation was Daryl’s own right and he would deal with that later.

Now… now was the time to defend Beth. Protect her like he’d been protecting her this whole time. 

“Maybe you shoulda been doin’ yer job instead of playin’ mind games with me and that girl ya seem so concerned about,” Daryl argued. “How did that little Gareth fucker get past ya? You got any idea how  _ that _ happened? Yer so worried about me  _ protectin’ _ her, why don’t ya look at what I did! That weasel tracked us down. He knocked me out and left me out in the woods ta  _ die _ . He was gonna take pleasure outta killin’ Beth. I heard him fillin’ her head with all sorts’a bullshit stories. She was gonna die and he was gonna take  _ pleasure _ in it. I didn’ hesitate fer one second when I killed him. I let her get a few shots in on him, found out all I could, and then I  _ dealt _ with it. I dealt with it like  _ you _ should’ve dealt with it months ago!”

His anger was taking over and he could feel the adrenaline that came with it coursing through his veins. His fists were clenched painfully at his sides, but he had to keep them there. He wouldn’t swing at Rick, as much as he wanted to right now. Daryl understood, even though it pissed him off, he understood. Beth had a way of bringing out the protective caveman in everyone, it seemed. Girl was more than capable of taking care of herself, but she had everyone around her ready to ride in on their white horse at a moment's notice. Shit, Merle would probably be lining up to kick his ass in her honor by the time they got back. 

He went on, “Beth doesn’ need us ta treat her like she’s gonna break. She ain’t made’a glass, man. She don’t need pity. She needs us ta treat her like the grown woman she is. She’s hurtin’ right now, but she’s damn well capable of makin’ her  _ own _ decisions. Best you remember that ‘fore ya go yellin’ like ya think you’re her damn brother or father.”

Rick had almost calmed down, until Daryl said that. The steel returned to his eyes.

“I know I’m nother brother  _ OR _ her father. I  _ know _ this, because  _ I’m _ the one that had to tell Hershel about the accident that killed her brother.  _ I’m _ the one that had to ID Hershel’s body a few days ago. And right now, I’m the closest thing ta family she’s got. I thought I could trust you, Daryl. Of all the people that could keep her safe… you were the one that I never worried about with her. I’m gonna make  _ sure _ this fucker is gone, and then I’m takin’ her with me.  _ I’LL _ keep her safe, and I sure as fuck won’t do it by taking  _ advantage _ of her!” Rick turned, preparing to get back into the truck.

Without thinking, Daryl reached out and grabbed his arm, spinning Rick around to face him before forcing the sheriff back against the hood of the truck. Something in Rick’s tone brought him back to all the times he’d been in town; it reminded him of all the dirty looks he would get from strangers. That look… like they all thought he was just like Merle or the old man. He was there again. Having someone he considered a friend, someone that had his respect, and learning that they genuinely thought he would be the type of man to take advantage of a woman. Especially a woman as special as Beth. The temper he’d worked so hard to keep caged had escaped, and it came pouring out. He was right in Rick’s face, barely an inch between them.

“You touch her, force her to leave, and I  _ will _ find you and I  _ will _ beat your ass into the ground. You got me?” He growled. His right hand moved toward the knife on his belt.

A protectiveness he hadn’t felt in a long time was boiling up right alongside his rage. The same protectiveness he’d always felt for his mama. Beth Greene was more than capable of taking care of herself, but he was going to be right there behind her in case she needed him. 

“Really?” Rick challenged. “You’re gonna stop me? I got nothin’ left ta lose except Beth. You’re not thinkin’ clearly when it comes ta her, Daryl. You aren’t gonna be able ta make the hard decisions when it comes to her safety.” He had a look in his eye, a look Daryl had seen once before. When he’d found out about Lori and Shane. It was an almost crazed look that made him look like a mad man.

Daryl’s anger dissipated, and the realization sunk in: this was a man that had just lost most of his identity. He was just putting the blame and anger and guilt he was feeling onto the nearest person. Daryl was well aware of that coping mechanism. He’d grown up watching his dad and older brother use the same tactic. Hell, he’d done it himself for years. 

“Nah man, I think yer the one that’s not thinkin’ clearly right now,” Daryl said, keeping his tone calm but firm. “If yer here, then the FBI must be involved, and ya knew it was just a matter of time before they put all the pieces together. You just walked away from the only job ya ever had. You lost the man that was more father to ya than anybody else. I get yer in a place right now, but it ain’t Beth’s fault or mine. We didn’t ask ya ta throw us together out here, but ya did. I’m not gonna apologize for carin’ about her. I’m not gonna apologize for the two of us and whatever the hell is happening there. Beth asked me to help her take on whatever crazy plan she’s got cookin’ in that blonde head of hers, and I’m not plannin’ on lettin’ her down like everybody else in her life has lately.”

He’d been talking more than he had in years. What the hell was it about Beth that had him opening up and actually vocalizing his thoughts? Girl was going to make him one of those people that  _ feel _ and  _ talk _ . Weird.

Just like that, Rick deflated in front of him. His shoulders slumped and his head dropped back between his shoulders. Daryl took a few steps back, letting the other man have what little personal space he could. It had all come together in his head. If Rick was actually here and had brought Merle with him, then it had to mean it was his only choice. He’d been forced to walk away from his kids and his life. He was just like Beth and Daryl now, living their life at the mercy of whatever psychos had decided to come in and wreak havoc. Right now, it was just the four of them, fighting against a group of people that they couldn’t identify. Fighting amongst one another wasn’t going to get them anywhere, though. It was time to put all the bullshit aside and get their lives back. They could argue about it when there wasn’t a death sentence hanging over their heads. 

When Rick didn’t say anything for a long moment, Daryl sighed. “We got about twenty minutes ta go, let’s go check out the field.” He got back in the truck and waited for Rick to do the same.

The rest of the drive was quiet, but it wasn’t the heavy tense silence that had been palpable before. Now it was just two people trying to figure out just what the fuck they were going to do next. 

* * *

Just like Daryl had assumed, there was nothing left of Gareth. The ground showed signs of lots of hoofprints and there were tusk scratches on the surrounding trees. All things that would be common in an area inhabited by a pack of wild pigs. No trace of this being a body dump site.

Rick was slowly turning around, surveying the area and making sure that there wasn’t anything that a law enforcement officer would spot. He seemed satisfied with the results, but instead of climbing back into the truck, he walked around to the back and lowered the tailgate, jumping up into the bed. 

Daryl might be socially awkward, but even he knew that was a sign that the other man wanted to stay here for a bit longer. Maybe get a little more off his chest. He leaned against the side of the bed, one hand mindlessly rubbing his chin, waiting for Rick to speak up. He sure as shit wasn’t going to be the instigator of this conversation. 

Ten minutes must have passed before Rick cleared his throat, “Ya haven’t even asked about Merle. Figured I had a fist to the face comin’ fer that.”

Daryl grunted. “Haven’t ruled that out yet. Ya didn’t exactly give me a chance to ask or even process the situation before ya started makin’ demands and accusations.”

The last few times Daryl had been here, the only thing he’d been focused on was Gareth, but now that it was back to being a clearing in the mountains, he’d been noticing all the signs and patterns he loved to see. Deer, rabbits, and even squirrels… this would be an amazing spot to hunt. The wildlife was thick everywhere he looked. It would even be a nice place to camp for a few nights. He could see him and Beth out here, spending a few nights under the stars, right in the middle of those fireflies she loved so much. Of course his mind wandered to Beth, that seemed to be the only thing it did aymore. If it wasn’t her safety, it was him trying to hold himself back from her. Lot of good that iron will of his had been. He should be pissed and demanding answers from Rick, but all Daryl could think of was how much he’d enjoyed waking up with her surrounding him. Her scent, the feel of her skin, and just her presence… something he’d hated in the past, Now he just wanted to stay in that moment and let the entire essence of Beth Greene take him over. 

“Daryl! You listenin’, man?” No, no he hadn’t been. Maybe Rick was right, maybe he wasn’t capable of making the decisions he needed to anymore. She’d become more of a presence in his head than he liked. 

“Yeah, sorry. Just lookin’ around for anythin’ we mighta missed.” That was partly true. “I don’t know why ya trusted me with Beth, but ya could’n tell me that my brother was still alive? Was’n like I was gonna leave her in the middle of nowhere and go sit by his hospital bed. You know that wouldn’ta happened.”

Rick sighed. “You saw how fast Gareth found you two up here. I didn’t think that through before I told ya to keep yer phone and let her call. After Gareth, I  _ couldn’t _ tell you about Merle. Then when the FBI took over the case, I wasn’t even sure if the safe house I had set up for him would be safe. That’s why he’s here. I didn’t tell ya he was alive at first because I wasn’t sure he was gonna  _ stay _ alive.” The truck shifted and Daryl could feel Rick’s eyes boring into him again. “Merle should be dead, and initially, he was. When the first responders got to the yard, he didn’t have a viable pulse and he wasn’t breathing. It was only when they tried to move him that Merle suddenly got a little life in him, started cussin’ at ‘em. They realized he was alive, but probably not for long. He was rushed into emergency surgery and from what the doctor and nurses told me, it was touch-and-go for a few hours. By then, you were already on the road with Beth, and it was easier to keep the narrative going that Merle had died that night. He’s our wild card in all of this. At some point, his brain is hopefully gonna spit out the name of somebody, or maybe he’ll recall some piece of evidence. I shoulda told ya. I know that. I’m sorry.”

Daryl understood, he was still fucking pissed, but he understood. Hell, he’d killed for Beth. Lying about his no-good older brother was just a drop in the bucket compared. Rick was just trying to keep everything moving and find out who was coming after her. He was putting her ahead of Daryl’s feelings, just like Daryl would do to anyone that got in his way.

Before he could tell Rick that he understood, the sheriff started talking again. “I know ya wouldn’t take advantage of Beth. I know how once she has an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her. Ya can’t blame me for bein’ pissed off though, man. I didn’t exactly imagine any scenario while we were driving up here that would result in me seeing—seeing what we  _ saw _ this morning.” Rick jumped out of the bed of the truck, leaning against the side next to him. “Yer right, I lost it all in a heartbeat. Every damn thing. I knew the day would come when I had to walk away before the hammer came down, but when it did… Hell, I wasn’t ready. I got no clue when I’ll see my kids again. I’m sure the things they’ll be hearin’ about me will make it even harder to see ‘em again. Losin’ Hershel—I don’t even know how ta process that yet. I don’t know how Beth is still standin’ right now. I’m not gonna say I like it, but I’m not gonna take off in the middle of the night with her. Not just because I know yer trackin’ skills and that I wouldn’t get very far. But… when she came out on the porch earlier… she smiled. I haven’t seen that smile since before Shawn and her mama died.”

It wasn’t like he needed it, but that almost sounded like Daryl was getting permission to… pursue whatever the hell this was. Fuck, the only permission he needed was Beth’s, and she seemed to be okay with it. 

Daryl shrugged. “Beth is still standin’ because she’s fueled by revenge and whatever else is racin’ through her brain. At some point, it’s gonna hit her. She’s gonna need all of us at that point, ‘cause she ain’t gonna be okay then.” He leaned over and bumped Rick’s shoulder with is own, maybe a little harder than was necessary with the way he stumbled slightly, but he should’ve known that was coming. “I get why ya didn’ tell me about Merle, but if we’re goin’ into whatever the hell you and Beth come up with together, then we need to have some trust again. Full disclosure. Otherwise, not all of us are gonna make it out alive.”

Rick was nodding his head. That was probably going to be the only agreement Daryl would get on this. Right now, Rick just wanted to bring the people that had murdered the Greene and Dixon organizations to justice. Beth, on the other hand, was planning to reign hell on every person involved. Like it or not, Daryl was going to be right at her side while she did it. Even if it meant losing his friendship with Rick.

Rick cleared his throat and said, “Thank you, for Gareth. From everything I’ve learned about him since ya told me, he wasn’t a trustworthy guy. He’s got a few aliases and none of ‘em are good. If he’d had a chance to take Beth, he woulda killed her, but he wouldn’t have made it quick  _ or _ painless. I brought all the files with me. I don’t want Beth to see them, but you should get a look. I know how ya feel about takin’ a life, and his… well, let’s just say it’s one that didn’t deserve ta be on this planet anymore.” The look on his face told Daryl all he needed to know about what Gareth had been up to. 

“Nah,” Daryl said. “I just told ya, we need full disclosure between all of us. Beth can handle it. She deserves to know everything the rest of us know. I keep tellin’ ya, she’s stronger than any of y’all give her credit for.”

Rick chuckled, shaking his head and pushing himself away from the truck. “I’m startin’ ta see that. I mean, she’s got you convinced. How did ya know Gareth was bad news? Ya never met him before and I know you had a bad feelin’ about him. He got past my cop senses, Hershel’s people, and who knows how many others.”

“The way she talked to him on the phone. Her whole personality changed, even when it was just over the phone,” Daryl explained. “She tried to smooth out her accent, and her body language was all off an’ her shoulders were tense. My mom used to do the same things while she was talkin’ to Will when he was outta control. It’s like on those animal shows, when somebody’s closin’ in on an animal that could rip their throat out. They talk low and gentle and try not to make any sudden movements. ‘Cause they know one wrong move and they’ll be dead. Beth did that kinda shit. Ya don’t make somebody ya claim to love go into protection mode when they talk to ya. Not if yer  _ actually _ a good person.”

Rick knew about Daryl’s mom and what she’d been through, and he was sure the file on Will Dixon probably had its own drawer in the filing cabinet. He probably assumed Daryl had been one of the eldest Dixon’s favorite punching bags, but he never asked and he had no plan on asking for details now. 

They stood there for a few more minutes, both men lost in whatever was taking up space in their heads. Daryl’s mind was fighting a war between his burgeoning feelings for Beth, wondering how the hell they were going to survive the next few days, weeks, months… And then, in the corner she always resided in… his mom. Trapped forever like she’d been the last time he saw her. His mom would like Beth, but she’d also make sure Daryl treated her like she deserved. That thought was taking up more space as the seconds ticked by.

Had he pushed her into something last night? Was she too vulnerable to make any decisions right now? A few years ago, he would’ve taken that as a sign to push her away. Keep her at arm’s length and refuse to let himself feel for her. Now, he wouldn’t be able to do that if he wanted. They were all going to be living on top of each other now. And there was the fact that Beth wouldn’t let that fly. She deserved a conversation and he would give her that. 

“Let’s get back to the cabin,” Daryl concluded. “We’re both supposed ta be protectin’ her and we left her alone with Merle and Ozzy. Girl might’ve dealt with them both by now.” He turned towards Rick and noticed the man was looking a little lighter and had lost the crazed expression in his eyes.

The sheriff stuck his hand out, offering Daryl an olive branch. Daryl grasped it and gave him a stiff nod. This bonding shit was getting to be too much right now.

* * *

Daryl had a lot of thoughts on what they would be walking into when they got back to the cabin—and what they found was something altogether more frightening than he could’ve ever imagined.

It seemed that Beth had already worked her mystical powers on his tough-as-nails, take-no-shit-from-anybody older brother. Merle was sitting on one end of the couch, carefully cradling Beth’s injured leg in his hand, while painting her toenails a bright pink color.

What in the actual fuck had happened here…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. Comments are always appreciated!


	27. Fire Meet Gasoline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back with Merle and Beth...

**Fire Meet Gasoline**

Beth watched Daryl and Rick drive off down the dirt road that led to the field they left Gareth in. She’d had high hopes of spending the morning in bed with Daryl, but of course  _ something _ had to happen. When someone had knocked on the door, she’d expected to see Ozzy. She hadn’t been prepared to give a private peep show to Rick Grimes or Merle Dixon, but it was safe to say her boobs had been on full view for all three men, and now the only one she didn't trust was sitting at the kitchen table with Ozzy.

Every look he gave her made her feel like he was imagining her naked again. She decided her only option was to look him right in the eye and hope that he wasn’t going to be as bad as she’d heard he could be. His eyes were so much like Dayl’s, it reminded her of the doubt and guilt she’d seen in them when she’d gone out there to check on him. From what she’d been able to learn about Daryl, his entire life was built on self-doubt, and judging by Rick’s face, she was sure he was playing on those doubts right now. She loved Rick, but damn, he needed to stay out of the middle of this right now.

They’d be back in a few hours, and then she could find a way to make sure those doubts didn’t take up residence in Daryl’s head. But for now, she had to find a way to deal with a very alive Merle Dixon.

Ozzy and Merle were sitting at the table, just staring at each other. Merle seemed to be entertained by the man’s attempt to look intimidating, and Beth had to agree. But maybe that was just because she knew Ozzy and what a sweet man he really was. 

“Um, does anyone want coffee? I’m makin’ some. Think at least one of us are going to need it.” Beth made her way to the kitchen. She’d been walking on her ankle more today than she had since she’d sprained it. Tylenol was going to be on the menu with the coffee, and she’d really like one of the pain pills, but something was telling her she should keep her wits about her until Daryl got back. 

“I’d love some coffee, blondie! At least ya got better manners than my baby brother did! Just telin’ me ta get my ass in here and behave and then takin’ off with Officer Friendly like that. Boy used ta be better with the manners and shit.” Merle was once again addressing her chest, not even trying to be discreet about it. 

“I’d love ta get ya some, Merle, but it was me asking and not my boobs,” she said sternly. “Try again and maybe I’ll share.”

Shock and respect met her eyes when he jerked his head up in surprise. Ozzy didn’t even try to stop the sharp bark of a laugh from bursting out. The tension in the room dissipated and even Beth had to smile.

Merle chuckled. “Damn, I like you, blondie! I apologize. Ever since my resurrection, only company I’ve had was a cranky nurse, a doctor that don’t understand boundaries, and Rick. Haven’t laid my eyes on anythin’ as pretty as you in a long time.”

Beth rolled her eyes and made her way to the cabinet that had the coffee cups and took down three. The bottle of Tylenol was on the counter and she grabbed two pills before getting a bottle of water from the fridge and limping over to the empty chair.

“Why ya limpin’? Ya have a li’l too much  _ fun _ with Daryl last night?” If Merle was going to be around, Beth was going to run the risk of having her eyeballs stuck in her head from excessive rolling. 

“No Merle, although I did have a wonderful night last night—by the way, thank you fer tellin’ Daryl about the fireflies, Ozzy. They were amazing! Anyways, I tripped the other day and sprained my ankle.” A soft beep from the other side of the kitchen caught all of their attention. Beth started to get up to grab the pot, but Merle put a hand out to stop her. 

“Stay sittin’ blondie, I got it.” So maybe Merle wasn’t all that bad. He did have a little chivalry in him. And she was about to tell him that, but then Ozzy’s phone rang. He looked at the caller ID, gave Beth a small smile, and walked into the living room to take the call. 

Both men returned to the table at the same time. Merle set the pot down in the center, but Ozzy stayed standing, looking torn.

“Bunch’a teenagers got drunk in the park last night,” he explained. “Few miles down the mountain. I’m the closest to the site…” 

“Well, you should go. Don’t worry about us, I’m sure Merle and I have loads ta talk about. Don’t we, Merle?” Beth shot Merle a smile that had him smiling again. 

“I dunno, yer husband asked me ta stay until he got back.” Ozzy was having a hard time making up his mind, but she could tell that he wanted to go to work. He loved his job here.

“Go,” she insisted. “I’ve got my gun close. If Merle acts like an ass, I’ll shoot him. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s on the tile so we can clean it up real easy.”

Merle raised his hands in self-defense, looking between the two of them with an expression of suspicion on his face. “No, no need fer that now. Already got shot once this month. Ain’t lookin’ ta do it again.”

She gave Ozzy her most reassuring smile and nodded her head. With one more glance back, he nodded his head as well and was out the door.

Merle poured two cups of coffee, sliding one over to Beth. “Did’ja want any of that fancy shit people put in coffee?”

“Fancy shit? Oh, you mean sugar or cream? No, today seems like a good day to drink it black.” 

“Listen,” Merle said seriously. “I know ya got questions. I got a few of my own fer you, but before we start the interrogation—I wanted ta tell ya, I’m sorry about yer pops. Genuinely. Hershel was a good man. He didn’t deserve ta go out like that.” Merle’s eyes were full of respect when he talked about her dad, the same as Daryl’s anytime he came up. 

“Thank you. That means a lot. I’m sorry about everything that happened to you that night, too. I lost my dad that night and from what we heard, you also lost yours.” She had to know how he was sitting across from her after everyone else who’d been with him wound up massacred. 

Merle just nodded his head and took a drink of his coffee. He stared into the cup, almost like he was hoping it would give him some answers. Instead of responding, he stood up and lifted his shirt. There was a dingy bandage covering half of his stomach along with a number of cuts and bruises that were still deep purple in color. 

“Took a bullet that night. Some asshole and his group of friends came bustin’ in the place, takin’ out anything that moved. Saw the old man’s head blown clear off...” He realized what he’d said and his head jerked up from where it had been looking at his wound. “Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to come out like that.” Beth just waved her hand, silently motioning for him to go on. "Woke up sometime later with a tube down my throat and another… somewhere else. Rick and that asshole partner of his showed up, told me I was dead and that I should stay that way for the investigation. FBI got involved an’ Officer Friendly became  _ Fugitive _ Friendly."

She assumed there was more, but she didn't need to hear it. It was exactly as they'd all been thinking:  _ everything _ was connected. 

"My turn,” Merle said, sitting back down. “Who’d ya kill that's got Ricky boy so turned around?" The way he was squirming around made it look like he either needed to pee, or his wound was bothering him.

"I'll tell ya on one condition. Let me clean your wound and rebandage it." She was already on her feet and heading towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit that was beginning to get way too much use.

Merle was on her heels, "I appreciate the offer, honey, but I think I better leave all the medical tendin' to the professionals."

She grabbed the kit and motioned him to back out of the bathroom. "Good thing I'm a registered nurse then. I'd show you my diploma, but I didn't think ta bring it on the run with me." 

He gave her a skeptical look, but shrugged and leaned against the kitchen counter, raising his shirt up.

“When was the last time you changed this?” The bandage needed some serious attention, that was obvious, but Merle didn’t seem like a man that would willingly let himself die from gangrene. 

“Couple’a days ago… Didn’t have anymore bandages when we flew tha coop. Figured I’d just get a few at some point. Don’t’cha worry, that scary nurse made sure I knew that I had to keep it clean.” Beth pulled the tape away from his skin as gently as she could, but she still saw a slight grimace cross his face. 

“Scary nurse, huh? You should know—we’re not the ones ta be messed with. Everything goes through us. Sure, the doctors get the glory, but we’re the ones makin’ sure ya make it through every day and every night until you leave.” He’d been taking good care of the site. While the bandage had a little wear on it, there wasn’t any sign of infection, just slight reddening, but that was to be expected in the healing process. The skin around the incision was healing nicely and wasn’t warm to the touch, to her relief. “Whoever did yer surgery was good. This won’t even leave that big of a scar. Guess ya won’t be gettin’ much of a story for the ladies with this one.”

Merle chuckled, but instantly regretted it and stopped. Beth squeezed some antibiotic cream onto a Q-tip and gently covered the entire incision before ripping open a pack of gauze and gently taping it down. 

“There! Should be good fer a few days. We’ll make sure ta keep it clean and bandaged.” Merle lowered his shirt back down, giving her a grateful smile. 

“Yer really just full of surprises, aren’t ya, blondie?” He remarked. “Gotta say, I do appreciate it. Not ta mention, yer a helluva lot better ta look at than that crazy bitch at the hospital. Softer touch, too. I learned a lesson from her, though… Never mess with the lady that controls the tube in yer peehole. Bitch held that over my head every goddamn day I was in there.”

Beth couldn’t help but laugh. The look of absolute horror on Merle’s face let her know that he’d been scared shitless of the nurse. Probably did him some good.

“Yeah, they teach us that trick on day one.” She limped over to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. Their coffee cups were abandoned on the kitchen table, the coffee most likely cold by now. “Want somethin’ ta drink, Merle?”

A very Daryl-like grunt came from Merle’s throat. He’d wandered over and begun browsing through Ozzy’s extensive DVD collection. “Okay, I’m gonna assume that just like Daryl, that noise means yes. You Dixon men need ta learn to use your words!”

“Hey, ya got any of those Twilight movies here?” Merle called out.

Beth was pretty sure that she’d heard him wrong. She had two cans of Coke and was making her way back to the couch. She lowered herself down and gently put her injured leg on the coffee table. The slight throb of pain was getting worse. She needed to learn to take it slowly while she healed up or she was going to keep making it worse. 

Merle gave a small cry of victory and set the case he’d found on the table next to her before going for the kitchen. She hadn’t heard wrong, he really did want to watch some Twilight… Merle came up next to her and carefully laid the ice pack from the freezer on her ankle. “Ya need ta take better care of that. Bein’ a nurse and all. Had a few sprains in my life and they’re always a bitch to heal up. Ya been scowlin’ and wincing all mornin’.” 

The Merle Dixon that had just sat down next to her was not the big scary guy that she’d imagined in her head. She knew he was capable of violence and could be cruel, but maybe something had changed when he’d been shot. Maybe a near-death experience managed to plant a bit of civility into his thick skull.

“Merle, I’ve got a question. Don’t take it tha wrong way, but is there a reason yer here and not at some safe house like my sister and Glenn? It seems like if you’re supposed to be dead—takin’ a road trip would be a pretty bad idea in that case.”

Merle shrugged. “Just went where Officer Friendly told me ta go. When he told me ta be dead ta keep Daryl safe, I decided ta stay dead. He tells me ta get my ass in the SUV because we’re goin’ ta see Daryl. I got my ass in the SUV. I usually don’t like doin’ what the law tells me, but seein’ as he’s not really the law no more—I gave in. Wasn’t like I was in any shape to tell him no.”

Beth could pick out a little bit of truth in what he said, but he wasn’t telling her what he was  _ really _ thinking now that he was here with them. “Wanna cut the bullshit and tell me what yer  _ really _ doin’ here? Ya got something else on your mind. You and yer brother have the same look when that’s goin’ on.”

Merle just stared at her, like he was trying to figure out what her motives were. The more time she spent with him, the more he reminded her of Daryl. They had the same facial expressions and mannerisms, and their eyes always conveyed more information than their faces ever could. He gave a heavy sigh and pushed himself farther into the couch, never taking his blue eyes off of her. 

“I can’t completely remember that night. But maybe somethin’ll come back to me soon,” he said. “I’m not here fer justice for my old man. He had all of that an’ more comin’ to him. And I’ll bet he’s not enjoyin’ hell nearly as much as he always thought he would. But… if there’s a way I can help get some justice fer  _ YOUR _ dad, then I wanna help. I’m here fer my baby brother, too. I have a lot to make up for with Daryl. Maybe this can start takin’ some of the tallies off that long sheet of wrongs I did ta him.”

What could Merle have done in the past that was so bad that he was willing to change his life—actually  _ give up _ his life—just for the chance at repentance? The reverence that people had for her father was something she was starting to notice more and more. She’d always had that for him, but that’s because he was her dad. There were other men that didn’t know him in life like she did, and yet they were willing to give things up for him and fight for some justice in his name. 

“I don’t want justice for my dad and all of the people I loved that died that night. I don’t want justice for what happened to you an’ yer friends and your dad,” Beth said. “I want  _ revenge _ . I want all of them to feel the terror they inflicted on us that night. Rick won’t like it, but Daryl said he would help me.” She wasn’t sure why she was so willing to pour all of this out to Merle, but something about him being a little vulnerable a moment ago made her want to give him a little piece of her, as well. “My dad has a storage unit in Boston that’ll answer questions, or at least that’s what a letter he left me said. A letter that someone wanted so bad, they sent my boyfriend to kill me for it. Same boyfriend that they paid to date me in the first place to get information on my family. He came here and knocked Daryl out in the woods, had me tied up right there in that kitchen. Daryl got back, managed to return the favor, and then tried to get some information out of him. But he wouldn’t tell us anything, he was just bein’ a dick. Daryl… Daryl  _ killed _ him. We dumped the body in a field for feral pigs. Last time he was up there, he said the only thing left of that piece of shit was a toe and a few bones. I want  _ revenge _ for that. For makin’ me into a fool, for makin’ Daryl have to kill someone when he hates killing. If you want justice, then Rick might be yer best route. But if you want  _ revenge _ like I do… Well Merle, I would be honored to have you with me.”

They sat there in silence, getting heavier and heavier by the moment. Merle’s eyes never left hers, but she could see a thousand thoughts running behind them. Every now and then he would cock his head to the side like he was sizing her up. She hoped he wasn’t imagining her boobs again. Hopefully they were past that by now. He was making a slightly annoying sound by sucking his teeth, but then he gave a short laugh and started laughing so hard she was afraid that he was going to open his incision back up.

“Well shit, blondie. Ya look so sweet and innocent, perfect li’l farmer’s daughter. But yer scary as hell, ain’t ya? Yeah, yer not that wimpy little chickenshit I was expectin’ ta come across. Yer one fuckin badass, huh? Got more of yer daddy in ya than ya know.” He paused, still grinning. Then he said, “My pa once told me that he’d never been scared of another person in his life, except fer one day with  _ YOUR _ old man. Said he never saw that part of Hershel again, but I’ll tell ya what… whatever happened that day? It put the fear of God Himself into Will Dixon. He never woulda crossed yer daddy after that. Must’a passed that right down ta you. I’m in, sweetheart. If you and Daryl are goin’ all in on this, then I’m goin’ with ya.”

Merle stuck his hand out and Beth shook it with conviction, sealing her deal with the Dixon brothers. She couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll even offer ya free medical care if ya do one little thing for me.” She was pushing her luck and she was either going to crash and bur,n or Daryl might have a little competition as her favorite Dixon.

Well, probably not.

Merle raised an eyebrow. “An’ what’s that?”

“I’m havin’ trouble turning my foot the right way to paint my toes… would you be willing to help out with that? I mean, you do kinda owe me anyways… I  _ did _ give you a free peep show this mornin’ and, well, I  _ know _ you’ve been picturin’ the girls all day. A little toenail painting shouldn’t be out of the realm of possibilities, should it?”

Merle glared at her, shook his head and then resigned himself to his fate. 

“Where the fuck’s yer nailpolish?”

* * *

That’s how Daryl and Rick found them. Even with Rick’s laughter and Daryl just standing there and staring at them, Merle finished her toes. Although he was cussing and throwing some very colorful insults at everyone under his breath. When he finished, she mouthed  _ thank you  _ to him and gave him the best smile she could.

Daryl and Rick had been busy unloading Rick’s car, boxes of files now covering the kitchen counter and table. Daryl passed by a few times and gave her one of his small half-smiles each time. Maybe Rick hadn’t gotten inside his head like she’d feared. She still really wanted to talk to him, but right now wouldn’t be the best time to try. She thought Daryl would want to sit down with Merle and have a talk, but he’d basically been ignoring him. Merle had noticed it too, but he just stayed out of the way, sitting on the stairs and watching Rick try and put a little organization to everything. 

Rick brought a box over and sat it on the couch next to her. It was different from the evidence boxes all the other files were in. This was a little bigger and had  **HG** written on the top. 

“This is everything I had on yer dad,” he explained. “Everything I buried, and then there’s some things he gave me over the years. Things I haven’t even looked at. I figured you’d wanna be the one to go through it. I also brought the file we put together on Gareth. It’s not an easy read, but I’ve got it when ya wanna take a look.”

Beth stared up at the man that had been like a brother to her, and she was suddenly overcome with the need to be close to the only person she could consider family at the moment. It wasn’t like Maggie was dead, but she wasn’t here and Beth had no clue when she’d see her again. Standing up slowly, keeping the weight off of her ankle as best she could, she practically fell into Rick’s waiting arms. She wasn’t going to cry again, not right now. 

“Thank you, Rick. I’m so glad yer here.” She tightened her arms around him and just let herself have a minute, a minute where she could be home. 

“Yer alright? And I don’t mean the ankle, are  _ you _ okay?” His pale blue eyes were searching her face. He’d gone into cop mode and was waiting for any small facial tic to tell him what she was thinking. She’d been around him enough to know when he was putting something together in his head. 

She could lie and say she was fine, but he would know better. She wasn’t not okay either, it was a hazy middle ground at the moment. 

“No, but I’m gettin’ somewhere. I’m not goin’ down that path again. Don’t worry about that. I’m… dealing. Daryl is helpin’ more than I can tell you. He’s a good man, Rick. A really good man.”

Rick pulled back and nodded his head towards the couch and helped her sit back down. He looked around the room, noting Merle now asleep on the stairs, his head precariously balanced on his arms, Daryl was at the kitchen table reading one of the files. Beth knew he was keeping an eye on everything and making sure that he would be close if she needed him. Like she’d said, he was a good man. 

“Yeah, I saw how much he was  _ helpin’ _ ya this morning,” Rick commented snidely.

There was an angry sort of grunt from the kitchen, but she had this under control. 

“Don’t,” Beth said sternly. “Don’t you dare, Rick Grimes. You don’t get to come here and make any decisions in my life. What happens is none of yer business. I love you and I’m so happy to see you, but don’t come in here and try an’ treat me like the little girl I used ta be. Now, I’m gonna look at some of those files ya brought, but I’m not ready to go through Daddy’s box or read about Gareth. You’re gonna help me understand what you know about that night, and then we’re gonna have a peaceful evening, and then tomorrow we’re gonna sit down and form a plan on what to do next.”

Rick was stunned silent, so he just slowly nodded his head. They both pretended not to hear the quiet laughter coming from the kitchen. Rick went to get his notes about the farm and what he’d been able to get from the junkyard. She took a chance to glance over her shoulder and found Daryl staring at her, a proud smile on his face.

The rest of the day went by in a slow, torturous, horror film of the night Hershel died. Rick tried to keep things to himself, but after a very pointed throat-clearing noise from Daryl, he reluctantly handed over the crime scene photos and autopsy reports that had come in the day the FBI took over the case. She barely glanced at anything concerning her dad. It wasn’t time yet. One day, soon, she would have to. Just not right now. She was going to keep seeing the sweet face of Jimmy laying there on the ground. They were the same age and she’d known him for most of her life. He didn’t deserve what happened to him, either. At some point, someone made some lunch and sat a plate in front of her. She’d been reading over Shane’s notes for the fifth time, trying to see if something would jump out at her. Food wasn’t on her mind, but she hadn’t eaten yet today and was starting to feel the drop in her blood sugar levels. 

She’d fallen asleep at some point. The smell of baking chicken and something else brought her around. Someone had moved the  **HG** box from the couch and stacked all of the files she was looking at on the coffee table. There was a pillow under her head and a light blanket over her. She sat up and looked around; Rick was asleep in one of the armchairs, Merle was smoking on the back deck, and that meant the sounds coming from the kitchen had to be Daryl.

She needed to pee, but then she wanted to spend a few moments of quiet with Daryl. Just to make sure that he was okay after his morning with Rick. She stood up and stretched as best she could without putting weight on one of her ankles, then she gave a small wave to Daryl before heading into the bathroom.

Whatever Daryl was cooking smelled really good. Before she could say anything to him in the kitchen, the growl in her stomach let him know she was close. 

“Gotta keep ya fed better, Greene. Can’t let ya go hungry like we did today.” Beth stepped over and tentatively wrapped an arm around him, He surprised her by turning and wrapping both of his around her. 

“Guess this just goes with how things have been lately. We didn’t even get a few moments alone until now. Rick wasn’t too much of an ass, was he?” She didn’t want to let go, but she couldn’t stand on her ankle for long. She turned, backed up towards the island counter, and put her hands back to jump up. But before she could, Daryl was there, putting his hands on her hips and hoisting her up. She was taken back to last night when he’d done almost the same thing, but instead of a counter, she’d been wrapping her legs around him. Being brave, she did that exact same thing now. Pulling him closer and pressing her lips to his, just for a second. She had to assume that he would be uncomfortable with affection in front of Rick and Merle. That thought was proven right when he pulled back a small bit and looked around to make sure that no one was paying attention. 

“He was fine, nothin’ I couldn’t handle. I would ask how Merle was, but I see you already got him wrapped around yer finger, so I’ve got a good idea.” 

“Merle was fine. I’m pretty sure every time he looks at me, he’s picturin’ my boobs, but that’s how I got my toenails done. He’s here for  _ you _ , ya know. Somethin’ about making amends or somethin’ like that.“

Daryl just scoffed and went to the oven, pulling the pan of chicken out and setting it on top of the stove. It had some kind of red sauce on top of it. That had to be what the other smell had been.

“What’dja make?” Beth asked.

“Somethin’ my mom used to make us. We couldn’t always afford the stuff for enchiladas, but the sauce was cheap and she’d put it on chicken and toss some cheese on it and call ‘em Dixon Enchiladas. Thought it’d be good tonight and well, I found the can in the cabinet an’ just went for it.” He looked almost like a little kid standing there, hoping that he did his mom proud. 

“It smells amazing! So yer actually gonna share this recipe of yer mom’s, huh?” She smiled, though it quickly faded. “Before Rick and Merle come in, I wanted ta ask ya somethin’. We gotta come up with some sleeping arrangements, I think. I know we’ve been sharin’ the bed down here, but if yer not comfortable with that while we have company, I get it.”

He looked at her like she was telling him to get the hell out of the cabin. He slowly walked over to her. His hands rested on her thighs. “Ya still think ya sleep better when I’m there?”

Beth nodded, afraid of what her voice would sound like because of the electricity that was racing through her from where he was touching her.

“Okay then. We’ll take the bed up in the loft and Rick an’ Merle can fight it out over the bed down here. I took my stuff up there while you were nappin’. Even changed the sheets on the bed down here.”

Her face heated up when he said that. Good thing he was thinking. The idea of Rick or Merle sleeping on the sheets that they’d been on last night was something she didn’t want to think about right now. 

“You two gonna give us another show in there or we gonna eat?” Merle’s voice broke the little happy bubble they’d had going for a few minutes. He’d been loud enough that he woke Rick up as well, and the sheriff sat up so fast, he almost fell out of his chair.

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair, just a few small conversations. Something was going to have to happen if they were all going to be together for the next few weeks. Tonight, they could be uncomfortably cordial, but tomorrow they needed to come together and get a real plan formed. 

After they ate and cleaned up the kitchen, Daryl went upstairs and got clean pajamas for Beth so she could take a shower. The hot water did wonders for her body and mind. Daryl claimed the shower after her and then helped her up the stairs. She refused to let him carry her up the stairs. She needed to stretch the muscles out, she just needed someone to help in case she stumbled. 

It sounded like Rick had won the argument over who got the bed and Daryl called down from the loft to tell Merle where he’d stashed the extra pillows and blanket after Beth got up from her nap. 

“Ya know you can go down there,” she told Daryl. “Spend some time with Merle.” The brothers hadn’t said more than twenty words to each other since they’d been in the cabin. She thought it might be something with her, but it just seemed like they didn’t want to talk to each other until they had to.

Daryl simply shook his head and pulled off the T-shirt and sweatpants he’d put on after his shower and climbed into bed. All of the other nights before last night, he’d worn his clothes to bed, but tonight he was apparently comfortable enough to just sleep in his boxers. A bubble of warmth and happiness started to spread through her at the thought of him becoming that comfortable with her. 

It still hurt to sleep on the same side as her injured ankle, but that meant turning her back to the side of the bed Daryl was about to get in on. That didn’t seem to matter though, because once he turned off the light, he wrapped around her. One arm under her and the other wrapped around her middle. The pain pill she’d finally given in to taking after her shower was starting to pull her under, and she had just enough energy to turn her upper body slightly and kiss him one more time. This time, they let it linger a little longer. She knew nothing would be happening with Rick and Merle in the cabin, but it was nice to have this little moment of privacy where they could both just relax. Let a few more bricks in their collective walls fall down. 

“Night, Daryl.” She let herself practically melt back into him and as she was drifting off to sleep, she heard his whispered  _ goodnight _ .

One thought came to her before she completely surrendered to sleep—she’d never found out  _ why _ Merle wanted to watch Twilight...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for the next chapter by the end of this week or first of next week!  
> Thank you for reading and like I always say comments are greatly appreciated!!!!!!


	28. The Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Dixon brother early morning conversation. Plans get formed and we bid goodbye to Ozzy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter this week! It's good to be back and getting this story out again. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks as always to my beta SquishyCool.
> 
> I'm not sure if there will be another update before Christmas. The chapter is almost finished, but I'm also working on a few fics for Bethyl Holidays Fest!

**The Best Laid Plans**

Daryl wasn’t sure what woke him up—the unpleasant feeling of something tickling his nose, the pain in his arm, or the opening of the front door. Probably a combination of all three. He could explain the tickling and the pain, which were connected to the blonde sound asleep next to him. His face was practically buried in the back of her head and it was her hair making him want to sneeze, while his arm was pinned under her head. He didn’t want to move—he’d take the annoyance and the pain to stay wrapped up here with her. She was safe here and he was… well, he wasn’t sure what the word was, but it might be close to happy. He knew exactly who’d gone out the front door. It was time for his brother’s morning cigarette. 

He hadn’t wanted to talk one-on-one with Merle yet, but now might be the best time he had. He reluctantly pulled himself out of bed, making sure not to wake Beth. He pushed some of her hair off her face before throwing on the sweatpants and T-shirt he’d taken off the night before. That had been almost as much of a shock to him as it had been to Beth, judging by the look on her face. It wasn't like she hadn't seen all of him the night before. But something in him felt like she was someone he could lose part of his armor around. He grabbed a new pack of cigarettes out of the carton he'd opened before they got to the cabin. Merle most likely had the pack he'd left on the counter yesterday. 

If Daryl had been shocked yesterday when he saw Merle painting Beth's toenails, the sight before him… that was something he hadn't learned the word for yet. His brother was sitting in one of the big chairs, smoking, drinking straight from a bottle of Jack Daniels, and wearing bright pink hospital scrubs.

"What in the fuck are you wearin'?" He wasn't sure how he formed words. What the hell had this almost dying done to Merle?

"My pajamas, dumbass. Ain't ya ever seen some?" Merle didn’t seem at all embarrassed about what he was wearing. He just seemed to be annoyed with Daryl’s question and went back to smoking and drinking. 

“Never knew ya ta be a  _ pajama  _ type of person. Those look like hospital scrubs. Lemme guess, that’s how they sent ya outta the hospital? Prolly pissed enough people off that they made sure ta get one last laugh.” Merle tended to have that effect on people, Daryl knew.

“That mighta been the reason, but this is the most comfortable shit I’ve ever worn!”

Daryl just shook his head and lit a cigarette before dropping into the other chair. The sun caught something on the porch and he bent down to pick it up, finding a shard of glass he’d missed when he cleaned up from the night Beth smashed the glass. 

“Better not leave a tip fer housekeepin’.” Merle got a good laugh out of that. He was always his own biggest fan. 

Was that really just a few nights ago when they argued out here on the porch? Seemed like weeks had gone by since that night. The amount of shit that he and Beth had learned and seen in that time period should make the time seem long. Probably wasn’t going to get any better anytime soon, either.

“It was Beth, we got lit one night and she got mad as hell at me and smashed a glass.” Daryl gave his brother a shrug. Smashed glasses weren’t exactly new to the Dixons.

“Blondie’s got some fire, girl like that… she’s outta both our leagues combined. Had me paintin’ her damn little piggies within a few hours.” It was always hard to get Merle’s respect, but damn if Beth hadn’t found a way to do it in a heartbeat.

He was right about something though: she was definitely out of his league. Girls like her didn’t end up with guys like Daryl. This might just be a right now thing, her attempt at  _ breaking bad _ . But he would just do what he’d always done. Hang on for dear life and not let it kill him when it came to a screeching halt. 

Daryl didn’t even know how to answer his brother so he just took another long drag of his cigarette and stared off at the mountain scenery. His brother nudged his arm with the bottle, but he shook his head. “Don’t need ta be lit at dawn.”

“Suit yerself, baby brother, suit yerself. Thought ya might want somethin’ ta get whatever ya wanna say outta yer head. I know ya didn’t just come out here ta reconnect with yer ol’ pal Merle.”

For once, Merle was right. Daryl did have a few things to say to him, but he was also wrong if he could admit it to himself. Thinking Merle had died made him wish that they could’ve tried to bury the hatchet. Merle had always been looking out for Merle, and Daryl wasn’t sure why he thought seeing the scars on his back would change anything. Especially when Will Dixon and his money and drugs were involved. 

“Just wonderin’ how long ya plan ta be here this time,” Daryl said. “How long till the need fer meth, money, or loose women comes ‘round?” He wasn’t trying to push his brother away or start another fight, but things had changed. He wasn’t the lost little boy thinking his brother would come and save him anymore He wasn’t the disillusioned teenager that just did what Merle and Will told him to do because it was the only way to eat and keep a roof over his head. He wasn’t even the guy that walked away from all of the bullshit. He’d found a way to become his own man, and even though he still found himself getting Merle out of situations after he left, he didn’t  _ need _ Merle anymore. He just needed to keep himself, his friend, and the beautiful blonde sleeping upstairs alive. 

Merle exhaled a thick cloud of cigarette smoke. “When I’s in the hospital, I kept havin’ this dream… but it weren’t really no dream, it was a memory. You ‘member that night, right before I turned eighteen? I came back ta the house after gettin’ outta juvie. Found ya hidin’ in the closet, all dirty, beat up, wearin’ my old pajamas that didn’t fit ya. I’d planned on takin’ ya outta there once I was legal. Then Pop tossed me that money and those drugs and I just left ya… Left ya with that bastard. I failed you that night. That’s why I was more than willing ta play along with Officer Friendly’s plan. He said it would keep ya safe. Figured it was time I started doin’ that.” He stopped talking long enough to light another cigarette and take a long pull off the bottle. He offered the bottle to Daryl again, but he wasn’t in the mood to have anything altering his mind today. Even if he needed it after hearing what Merle just said.

Then Merle went on, “Few years ago, I ran into Hershel Greene. I was high off my ass an’ actin’ a damn fool. I’d started some dumbass fight, but before the cops were called, there was Hershel. Talked everybody down an’ got my ass in his truck. Drove me back to the yard, and when we got there, he told me that I could change. That I didn’ need ta be livin’ the way I was, that I’d have a job in his organization if I wanted it. He was thinkin’ of branchin’ out. Into what, I don’t know, but he told me I had a job with him if I wanted it… And I told him ta go fuck himself. Last time I ever talked ta him, he was willin’ ta give me a chance. And I did what I always did. So maybe I’m makin’ somethin’ up ta him too, by helpin’ ya keep his daughter alive. Takin’ care of her. Just not in tha way that  _ you’re _ takin’ care of her.” Helooked over at Daryl with eyebrows raised and a licentious look in his eyes. 

Before Daryl had a chance to answer, Rick was opening the door and poking his head out. His hair was a mess from sleeping and he had a slightly confused look on his face.

“Ugh, I think Beth is awake and hopin’ ya might help her down the stairs. She’s been throwin’ stuff from the loft fer the last few minutes.” 

“Like I said, blondie’s got fire!” Merle took another drink, ground out his cigarette, and followed Daryl and Rick back into the cabin. 

* * *

Beth had been busy. Two grocery bags filled with clothes were laying on the floor just below the loft and two notebooks had almost made it to the couch. She was about to toss what looked like the journal with all her plans in it when she saw Daryl and quickly pulled her arm back as he started up the stairs. 

“What the hell’re ya doin’?” She looked like a little kid that had just been caught sneaking a cookie. The journal was behind her back and her eyes just couldn’t meet his. 

“Well… ya told me not ta do the stairs on my own. When I woke up, you were gone and when I looked over the railing, I saw Merle was gone so I figured you were talking. Figured I would help with a few things. Tossed my laundry down and the extra notebooks we got.” Well, it did seem pretty reasonable. 

“I’m pretty sure Rick thinks yer losin’ yer mind, but it was a good plan. Did ya really need to get yer laundry down there right now?” 

“Yer the one that had a problem with me goin’ around without panties, Mr. Dixon. I was just tryin’ to make sure ya didn’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Merle was right… Beth Greene was full of fire.

“If yer done throwin’ things, let’s get ya downstairs. I’m thinkin’ those two are gonna wanna eat soon, and I’m serious about keepin’ you fed better.”

He got Beth down the stairs slowly. Once again, she wouldn’t let him carry her down. Rick and Merle were staring at the coffee pot like they could will it to brew faster. Daryl got Beth as steady on her feet as he could and then tossed the bags she’d thrown into the laundry area. She passed him on her way into the bathroom and gave his hand a quick squeeze, flashing him a small smile.

Breakfast was cereal and coffee. Daryl could tell that Beth was anxious to get the next step figured out and he was, too. Sitting on the sidelines wasn’t really his strong point, and as much as he liked being in the middle of nowhere and out in the open, it only contributed to the feeling that they were sitting ducks out here. They’d been found once and it wasn’t long before someone came looking for Gareth, if they weren’t already close by. The quicker they started north, the better.

The four of them were situated in the living room; Beth on the couch where she could prop her foot on the coffee table, and Daryl next to her, while Merle and Rick each had one of the armchairs. He’d expected her to have her journal ready to go, but it was the letter that Hershel had left her that she was nervously holding. Looking at the other two men, he was struck by how much power she already had over all of them. Right here, she had three men that would jump in front of a bullet for her. One she’d only known for 24 hours, and Daryl was convinced that anyone who tried to fuck with Beth Greene would find that Merle Dixon wasn’t going to sit by and allow it. 

She addressed them collectively, “Rick, I know you’ve got ideas runnin’ through yer head, and I’m sure they’re carefully planned out ta keep me and these two outta the public eye, but that’s not gonna work fer me. Daryl and I are goin’ to Boston, but first, need to stop in D.C. We’ve got a meeting with Aaron.” She might have been nervously fidgeting a few minutes ago, but her voice was strong as she addressed them. “Daddy had a storage unit in Boston. He said that’s where I could find answers. He put the house out there in my name, Eugene is there, and we both think that’s where we can get the most help. In the letter he left me, he told me to reach out ta three people. Reg Monroe, Dwight, and Aaron. Reg is dead, Dwight is apparently one of the guys lookin’ for Daryl, and Aaron… well, Aaron we’re still not sure about, but we’re gonna meet him to see what he wants to tell us. He says he’s got an idea of who killed my dad.” She looked over to Daryl, eyebrows raised.

Did she want him to tell them about Aaron? From the look she was giving him, that was her plan. 

“Uh, we found out that Aaron works for Deanna Monroe, the congresswoman,” Daryl explained. “He told us that he thinks the same person that was behind what happened to our people was the same person that shot his husband and put him in a wheelchair… and killed Reg Monroe.” He didn’t miss the look that crossed his brother’s face when he mentioned that Aaron had a husband. That was a talk they were going to have soon, before he had to kick his brother’s ass for being a small-minded idiot. 

Beth gave him a grateful smile. Maybe she didn’t know just how much power she had. She was still nervous; she’d always been the little sister, the youngest daughter, the meek girlfriend, and the person they all thought was going to break like glass or slit her wrist again. 

Maybe all of this was going to be what she needed to see that she wasn’t that person anymore. She was the reason they were going to pull off whatever crazy fucking plan they pulled together. 

Rick had been unnaturally quiet, especially for a man that was used to always being in charge. Daryl risked a quick glance over at him and saw that he was listening to what they were saying, but he also looked like he might have a few objections. They knew this was going to be a roadblock with Rick. He needed to be the one calling the shots, and usually that was the best plan. He was good at making decisions and leading people, but he was also a cop through and through. Even though he’d left his badge behind for the moment, he would always fall to the side of the law. Beth’s plans pushed them way past the line that Rick usually stood so firmly behind. 

Beth continued, “We’re meeting Aaron in five days at a bar. We’d like ta get there at least a day before and have time to see the bar and make sure we have a basic understanding of the area in case we’ve gotta run. That leaves us a few days ta make the drive. I think—and Daryl agrees—that the sooner we leave here, the better. As much as I hate to leave this place.” Daryl didn’t miss the slight blush that was making its way up her neck, and from the snort of laughter coming from his brother, Merle hadn’t missed it either. 

Rick leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Seems like ya got it all figured out, Beth. What I wanna know is how yer gonna get out if it goes wrong. What if this Aaron guy is workin’  _ for _ the man that shot Hershel? What if they’re all just sittin’ there ,waitin’ fer you to walk in so they can grab ya and take ya somewhere to finish the job?” He made good points, but from what Daryl had learned from Beth, those points weren’t going to deter her. 

“Ain’t gonna happen, Officer Friendly,” Merle chimed in. “Ain’t nobody gonna take that girl anywhere with me an’ Daryl around.” He gave Rick a pointed look and then a half-smile to Beth. 

Beth agreed, “That’s why we wanna get there early. If this bar is in a dark alley, looks empty, or just gives us a bad feeling, then we change the place. I’m hopin’ that yer sheriff skills will help us out. I’ve told Aaron that I’m bringin’ people with me. I didn’t wanna trust him after our first conversation, but now… now I think we need to give him a chance.” She was getting her footing now and she’d looked at this and planned from all angles. Her mind was constantly trying to see how everything could fall apart or come together. 

It seemed like Beth had said the right thing, because Rick was nodding his head, as if in understanding. But then he got up and walked over to one of the boxes that he’d brought with him. He brought back a legal pad, sat back down in his chair, and flipped through a few pages. “When I talked to Eugene, he gave me some names of people that had been a little suspicious to Hershel in the last year. I didn’t have time ta run all the names, but I did a little work on this one guy… name’s Dante. He’s a doctor in Virginia Beach. He filled in at one of the clinics that Siddiq supplies. Siddiq told Hershel that Dr. Dante had been real inquisitive about Hershel and what all he did. Seemed like he already knew  _ too  _ much about Hershel. After news broke that Hershel died, Dante reached out to Siddiq, told him that he wanted to be of help ta anybody in the Greene family if they still needed it. Eugene had been running background on him. Nothin’ had come up, but from what I’ve heard and the vibe Siddiq got from him… something tells me this guy isn’t completely who he presents himself ta be.”

Daryl had an idea he knew where this was going and he wanted to stop Rick, but he might have a good idea and the glint in Beth’s eyes told him she’d already started down the same road. 

“You wanna make a stop at the beach, don’t ya, Ricky boy? Have Beth meet with this guy, see what kinda feelin’ ya get from him in real life. If blondie’s in… I’m in.” Fucking Merle. 

“What makes you think that he’d just meet with me outta nowhere?” Beth asked.

“Ya got the name, sweetheart,” Merle said. “And if he really wanted in, for good  _ or _ bad, he’d jump at the chance ta meet with ya. We show up, knock on the door, he’s got no way ta let anybody know yer comin’. Then, if it turns out he’s a piece’a shit, we can make sure he don’t ever tell  _ nobody _ that he saw ya.”

Beth paled a little at that thought, but then she straightened her shoulders and let a mask fall in place. 

“You think it could work? I mean, if we do this, we all need to agree that it’s gonna be the right plan.” She was asking everyone, but her eyes were on Daryl. They’d agreed to do this together and she was asking for his opinion.

“It’s possible he could just be a guy tryin’ ta get in with the organization,” Daryl said. “Or he could be a plant like Gareth was. If that’s what it is, maybe we can get him ta tell us somethin’. Maybe we can get a name.” Daryl didn’t like the idea of basically using her as bait, but she’d have the three of them behind her if something went wrong. “We’ve gotta go through Virginia anyways, we can leave tomorrow morning an’ be in Virginia Beach by tomorrow night.”

Merle agreed, “That’d give us a few days ta tie up anything that happens in Virginia and then get to D.C. in time fer your meetin’ with the fairy.”

Daryl really needed to have that talk with his brother.

“Merle Dixon!” Beth scolded. “Don’t you dare keep that up. There’s nothing wrong with two men gettin’ married. You don’t need to bring those antiquated ideas with us. I want you there with me, but you can’t be insulting everyone we meet just because you don’t have an open mind.”

Rick burst out laughing when she finished. The look on Merle’s face was something he hadn’t seen in a long time. Embarrassment. Beth really did have him under her spell already. 

“It’s tha best plan, Beth,” Rick said. “He did tell Siddiq that he’d wanna help out in any way possible. We can get Eugene ta see what his schedule is like, maybe use a li’l of that trackin’ shit they used on you two.”

Beth nudged Daryl with her shoulder when Rick finished talking, He knew what she was silently asking him, and even if he’d already told her what he thought, she needed a little more assurance. He gave her a quick nod.

“Okay, let’s reach out to Eugene and get all the basic information about him we can. Anything that can help us,” Beth said decisively. “Then tomorrow, we go to Virginia. Daryl and I should prolly go tell Ozzy we’re leavin’, he’s kinda become a little protective of us.” 

Daryl turned to Rick and asked, “Now that yer here an’ ya got the SUV, I think we should go in that. I’ll see if Ozzy minds if I leave the truck parked behind his cabin. You got enough room with all yer boxes an’ shit?”

Rick rolled his eyes and nodded. “We’ll make it work, but I think that’s the best way ta do it. No one knows that car and it’ll help if we’re all together. I’m gonna reach out ta Eugene. Let him know that we’ll be in Boston sometime in the next week or so, tell him to get all the information he can give me on Dante.” 

Feeling that they were done for now, Merle got up and headed outside to chain-smoke a few cigarettes. At least he hadn’t tried to smoke in here. For the most part, he was behaving himself. 

“Let’s go see if Ozzy’s home and then when we get back, ya need to ice that ankle.” Daryl stood up and extended both hands to help Beth stand up, steadying her until she was stable on both legs. 

“I’m gonna miss our friendly neighborhood park ranger. Not as much as I’m gonna miss those few days we had here, but I’m still gonna miss Ozzy.” Beth was trying to walk and her limp was better. She no longer grimaced with every step.

They left Rick to do whatever it was he was doing and walked out of the cabin, both of them giving a wave to Merle as they made their way to his old truck and headed down to the main cabin. 

* * *

Daryl could tell that Beth wanted to say something. She’d been messing with her bracelet since they’d gotten in the truck. Twice now, she’d taken a deep breath and opened her mouth, but then quickly closed it and shook her head.

“Ya gonna spit it out sometime soon?” 

She turned those big blue eyes on him and gave him a weak smile. “I was just thinkin’, since we’re leavin’ tomorrow and we’re gonna be on the road and stayin’ in hotels… is this somethin’ you wanna keep doin’? I mean, if it was just somethin’ that happened because of the fireflies and the fact that we’ve been thrown together all this time… I just wanna know if you regret what happened.” She hadn’t taken a breath the whole time and now she sank back in the seat like she’d worn herself out.

Daryl didn’t want to have this conversation in the short time it would take to drive to the main cabin, so he pulled over to the side of the road and turned to face her. Part of his mind was telling him that he should tell her yes. Part of him did regret the other night, but not because he didn’t enjoy it or care about her. Merle’s voice was in his head, telling him that she was so far out of his league and he might have pushed the whole night more than he should have.

But instead of doing what he always did, he did what he wanted to. “No. No, I don’t regret it one bit. Do you?”

She smiled brighter than she had in a few days and shook her head. “No.”

“We might be stuck with those two idiots back there fer the next—well, who knows how long, but we do have the option of separate hotel rooms. What ya said earlier—about missin’ this place when we’re gone… I’m gonna miss it, too. It was nice bein’ out here.”

He didn’t even have time to react before she was sliding across the bench seat and grabbing his face in her hands and pressing her lips to his. There was only a moment of hesitation before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her a little bit closer.

They needed to get to the main cabin, but Ozzy could wait a few more minutes just so they could have this small moment of solitude with each other. It pained him to pull back from her, but if he didn’t stop them now, they would be horizontal in just a few minutes. “Ya got anythin’ else buggin’ ya that we need to get figured out?”

“Well I wish you’d let me keep kissin’ you, but other than that—nope. Let’s go break it ta Ozzy. Maybe we should tell him the truth. Ya know, that we’re not actually on our honeymoon.” Her face made him laugh. It was almost like she was upset about having to tell him.

Instead of sliding back over to her side, she straightened out and laid her head on his shoulder. “Alright Mr. Dixon, let’s go see our park ranger.”

* * *

Ozzy was sitting on his front porch when they pulled up and offered them a wave of greeting.

“I was wonderin’ if I’d see you folks today. Look Daryl, I’m sorry I left yesterday, but I had to deal with some rowdy drunk teenagers and well, Beth said she’d be fine. Said she’d shoot that rude guy if she had to.”

Daryl cut his eyes over to Beth, who was studying her boots with a lot of concentration. That was the part of the story he didn’t get to hear last night. 

“No worries, job comes first,” he assured. “We’ve gotta take care of some stuff up north and need ta leave in the mornin’. Don’t worry, I’m gonna pay ya fer the rest of the month, but we wanted ya ta know we was leavin’. And uh, I was gonna see if ya mind if I leave the truck here until we get back. It’s easier to get all of us in the other vehicle.”

Ozzy had been nodding along since he’d told him that they were leaving. “Well, I hate ta see ya’ll leave, but I figured when those two showed up yesterday, you’d be headin’ out pretty soon.” He stood up from his chair and walked down the stairs and pointed to a small driveway that led to the back of the house. “Go ahead and park the truck right back there. No one will be able to see it and I’ll keep an eye on it for ya. With the lady’s ankle still bad, I’ll give you two a ride back down ta the cabin if ya wanna leave it now.”

Daryl looked over at Beth. She shrugged and then nodded her head. “Yeah. That’d be great, I’ll pull it around.”

He jogged down the steps and hopped up in the truck. He followed the driveway and parked along the side of the house. Ozzy was right, it wouldn’t be seen from the road. Daryl did a quick look around the cab of the truck to make sure that Beth hadn’t left anything inside. Hhe didn’t have anything of value in this thing, it was just how he got around when his bike wasn’t feasible.

He was walking back around the house when he heard Beth confessing that they weren’t actually newlyweds here on their honeymoon. Part of Daryl thought that Ozzy already knew that, but she wanted to come clean. 

“Sooo, basically we started the whole honeymoon thing when the guy at the liquor store thought we were buying a lot of booze and then… well, we didn’t know you, and so I just went on with the honeymoon thing. But I’m sorry we lied to you. You’ve been so kind to us, and you helped with the whole Gareth thing and his body dump. You brought us that amazing meal—oh, and ya told us about the fireflies. That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I just didn’t wanna keep this secret from you.” Daryl had picked up that when Beth was nervous, she tended to ramble and talk faster than most people could keep up with. She was doing that now and twisting that bracelet around her wrist. 

Ozzy was smirking. “Well, I did have my suspicions. No rings, and his brother gave me the strangest look when I called ya his wife. Ya may not be married, but I’m gonna keep my eyes open for that invitation one day.” He winked at her and then started laughing. “The look on Daryl’s face right now is tellin’ me that it might be a few years down the road. Reckon I’ll have enough time ta find the perfect gift.”

They needed to be getting back to the cabin before they found themselves owning their own cabin up here with three kids and a dog. Daryl wouldn’t be opposed to living up here—he’d be happy to live up here with Beth. Just not while people were actively trying to kill her and possibly trying to kill him. And not while they had a rogue cop and a not-dead brother relying on them.

* * *

On the drive back, Ozzy made sure to get phone numbers for both of them. He wanted to be able to give a heads up if someone else came looking around for them. He pulled up in front of the cabin to find Merle and Rick were both sitting on the stairs, drinking beer. Beth got out of the car and pulled open Ozzy’s door and threw her arms around him, kissing his cheek before thanking him again. The ranger was bright red and looking sheepish when Daryl came up to shake his hand.

Daryl and Beth had just made it up the stairs past the other two when Ozzy rolled down his window and called out, “Hey, if you two do ever get married—I’m ordained!”

Rick had just taken a drink of his beer and spit it out on the ground, turning to look between Beth and Daryl. Merle just started laughing like someone had just told him a hilarious joke. 

“Ya forget ta tell us somethin’, baby brother?” Merle, still laughing, pulled out a cigarette and tried to light it, but he was shaking so hard he almost burned off his eyebrow. 

“Shut up, asshole,” Daryl snapped. “Get in here and help me get things ready ta go. I wanna leave here early tomorrow. No later than five. It’s an eight hour drive and I wanna be there early so we can find a place to stay and figure out where and how we’re gonna meet this doctor.”

Beth paled a little when he mentioned the meeting that was coming up. They’d have to prepare her. She wouldn’t be going in alone. Depending on what they found out about the doc tomorrow, she might have all three of them with her or just him, but she wouldn’t be walking into any situation alone. He reached over and grabbed her arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. Just enough for her to know that she was going to be okay.

They spent the rest of the afternoon getting everything together. While he’d been moving his truck, Beth had asked Ozzy if they would be able to take his first aid kit with them. She was making sure they had everything in there and organized how she wanted it to be. Merle had mentioned at dinner the night before that she’d changed his bandage for him and it reminded Daryl that he should have her look at the stitches in his forehead soon. They were starting to itch and even though it was early, they might need to come out. 

Dinner was whatever they could find that was perishable and couldn’t make the trip with them. Beth didn’t want to leave any mess for Ozzy to deal with and started delegating as soon as they’d finished eating. An hour later, the cabin looked almost like it did the day they showed up. Daryl wasn’t going to tell her that Ozzy had told him that he had a friend that came up to clean as soon as guests left. She was getting her boss footing under her. Merle got to the shower before everyone else and Beth was able to see the wonder of his pink pajamas. They were leaving early in the morning and they would be splitting the drive time, so they all decided to head to bed early. Not caring what she thought, Daryl picked Beth up and carried her up the stairs. 

“Didn’t have the energy ta go the snail pace up the stairs tonight,” he remarked. She tried to give him her angriest glare, but the way she scrunched her nose reminded him of a baby bunny and his laughter drove the look from her face.

They climbed into bed, falling into the same position they’d been in last night. He was getting very comfortable with falling asleep curled around Beth—that should’ve been the moment he would jump and run. Now he just wanted to stay here as long as he could. 

“Tomorrow, when we get to Virginia Beach, could we find a mall?” She’d turned her head a little so he could see more than the back of her head. 

“Ya feel the need ta get a soft pretzel and see if there’s a sale at Old Navy?” She never came off to him as someone that needed to go to a mall. Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he was thinking he did.

“No, but if we did come across an Auntie Anne’s Pretzels, I wouldn’t say no,” she chuckled. “I’ve only got the bare necessities. Usually that’s all I need, but if I’m gonna pull off meeting with people and convincing them that I’m gonna take over the business, then I think I need ta look the part. Yer the one that told me I need to be the HBIC. Just thought I could get some clothes and shoes for meeting Dante and Aaron. Grab some makeup and a flat iron. Ya don’t have ta go with me. I’m sure Rick would be fine with takin’ me.” She’d turned in his arms and was laying on her back. Her eyes were a heartbreaking baby blue. How did she not know that he would do just about anything for her? Even wander around a mall. 

“Nah, we’ll get checked into a place and then we’ll go. That’s why I wanna get there early. Give us time to get a lay of the land.” Even in the dark, her smile lit up the little bubble they’d made for themselves in this bed.

“Will you do me a favor?” She asked softly.

He grunted.

“Don’t let me lose  _ me _ in all of this. I don’t wanna become someone else. I just wanna put on the mask when I need it. If you see me becomin’ somebody else… remind me who I am.”

Merle’s voice was playing in his head again: ‘ _ She’s way too good fer you. Girl like that don’t mess with the likes of us.’ _

He hesitated. Then he said, “Tell me somethin’ that’s absolutely you. Not yer singin’ or bein’ a nurse. Somethin’ that you always thought was yer unique quirk.” She wasn’t the only one that had been to a therapist in the past. 

She laid there, staring at the ceiling while she thought about it. A tiny smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “I can recite the entire opening monologue from  _ Romeo and Juliet _ . I was obsessed with the movie—ya know, the one with Leonardo DiCaprio? After I saw that, I bought the book and read it constantly.”

“I got no clue what movie yer talkin’ about, but okay,” Daryl said. “You start actin’ like somebody else, I’m gonna be askin’ you ta recita that for me.”

He could see in her eyes that she was getting tired. He’d convinced her to take another pain pill before bed. They helped her sleep more peacefully and lowered the risk of her twinging the injured ankle. He bent his head and softly kissed her mouth. She moved closer to him and was soon breathing deep.

The world had no clue what was about to hit them. She thought she had to change, but she didn’t realize she had  _ always _ been the HBIC. Just ask his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for reading. Please leave a comment, they help the writing and always make my day!


	29. On the Road Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The foursome leave the cabin and head north...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the longest chapter I've posted so far! I'm hoping to make up for that four month absence! This will be the last post before 2021. The next two chapters are turning out to be as long or longer than this one. Thank you as always to my beta SquishyCool who spent her Christmas night giving this a good read through and edit for me. She's the absolute best! I hope everyone that celebrates had a Merry Christmas. If you don't, I hope you had a really good Friday! I hope you all have a wonderful New Year.

**On the Road Again**

“Beth... Beth! Come on, girl. Gotta get up, need ta get on the road.”

She knew she liked the voice that was in her ear, it was what the voice was saying that she didn’t want to hear. Beth tried to pull the blanket over her head, but it was gently pulled out of her grasp and tugged all the way off the bed.

“Come on, get dressed, ya can sleep once ya get in the car.” Realizing that she didn’t have a choice in the matter, she cracked her eyes open to find that the sun hadn’t even started to rise yet, but they were trying to get her out of bed and in a car. Daryl was standing at the side of the bed, smirking at her. He’d already taken a shower and had both of their bags ready to go at the top of the stairs. She’d laid out clothes the night before, so all she really had to do was slip them on, throw her pajamas in the grocery bag she’d been using for laundry, and then she could happily curl up in the backseat and go back to sleep. “I’m gonna run these down ta the car, I’ll be back up ta help ya down in a few. Don’t try it on yer own. We don’t need ya showin’ up ta all this shit with a broken leg.”

She rolled her eyes at him but got out of bed. It didn’t take long to change from her tank top and shorts into jeans and a black T-shirt and pull her hair into a high ponytail. Her black Converse were already downstairs. She’d forgotten that she’d packed them and she’d been so happy when she found them last night. She grabbed the envelope she’d put on the table the night before and waited for Daryl to come back up. 

“Ya ready, Greene?” He called from downstairs. 

“Yep!” He was up the stairs in a few seconds. Beth grabbed the laundry bag and envelope before he was scooping her up again and taking her down the stairs. 

He sat her down gently and she walked over to the counter, realizing that her ankle wasn’t hurting as much as it had yesterday and she hardly had a limp at all. Maybe she could be trusted to go up and down stairs on her own now. She laid the envelope down where it would be seen and then turned around to look at the cabin one last time. She was really going to miss the view and the solitude up here. This week with Daryl had been a series of highs and lows, but they were leaving on a high and she hoped, if she survived all of this, she could come back one day soon. 

“What’s that?” Daryl nodded his head at the envelope as they walked out the door. 

“It’s a thank you note for Ozzy. He did a lot for us and I just wanted to be able to tell him thank you one more time.” It might be nice to not have constant interruptions from the park ranger, but she’d miss him.

“Ya know we did pay him ta stay here. We’re payin’ him fer an entire month.” Even she knew that Daryl had a soft spot for Ozzy. He wasn’t going to admit it, but she could tell.

“Yeah well, he did help us dispose of a body. And I’m pretty sure Merle stole his  _ Twilight _ movies, so I figured it’d be a good idea to leave a note.” 

“What the hell is a  _ Twilight _ ?” 

* * *

Beth wasn’t sure how long she’d slept in the backseat, but when she came to, the sun was shining brightly and the scenery was racing past her. Rick and Daryl were in the front seat, both seemingly lost in their own worlds, and Merle was on the other side of the backseat with his head resting against the window, snoring loudly. She realized that she hadn’t used the bathroom when she got up. Her mind wasn’t working right at that hour, but now the pressure in her bladder was getting super uncomfortable. Thankfully, she was behind the passenger seat where Daryl was, so she leaned forward and rested her hand on the shoulder closest to the door.

He jumped a little, but then turned his head around and smiled at her. “Have a good nap?”

“ _ Mmhmm _ , but I really need ta pee. Sooo, d’you think we can convince Rick to stop at a gas station or something?” 

“Rick can hear ya and we need gas anyways, so yes, we’ll stop,” the sheriff said. “One condition, though. Last time  _ we _ stopped at a gas station, you took my truck for a very short joy ride and stole my keys. Can we avoid that this time?” Rick looked into the rearview mirror and smiled back at her. It was nice to see a small part of the old Rick coming through. 

Beth tilted her head, pretending to think about it, then nodded. “Wait—can I wake Merle up when we get there?”

“Try it, blondie, and we’ll have to rethink our little truce,” the older Dixon muttered.

Before she could answer, Rick was taking an exit off the highway and pulling into a gas station right off the exit. Beth barely waited for the truck to stop before she jumped out and made a mad dash to the bathroom. She almost took out an older man when she took the last corner a little fast. She threw a quick, “Sorry!” over her shoulder. Thankfully there was no line since there was only one toilet, and she quickly shut the door and locked it. 

After she finished and was washing her hands, Beth chanced a look into the dirty mirror above the sink. She hadn’t thought much about how she looked the past few days. Now she caught a look and it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. Her injuries were starting to heal, and with a little bit of makeup, they wouldn’t even be noticeable. She tried to imagine what her “HBIC” look would be. She was thinking straight sleek hair, maybe a red lipstick. Probably black clothes. She’d see what she could find later. 

There was a knock on the door. “Beth, ya alright in there?” Rick’s voice came through the door.

“Yep, be out in a second.” She grabbed a paper towel and dried her hands. Rick was waiting outside the door for her. Two bottles of water and a blueberry muffin in his hands. Seeing him out there, checking on her, reminded her of all the times he’d been someone there to comfort her when she didn’t have anyone else to turn to. 

“Here, got ya food and water. Merle and Daryl are already back in the car. Ya okay in the back with Merle? He’s been on his best behavior since we left him with ya the other day. Do I even wanna know what you said to him?” Probably wouldn’t be the best thing to tell a man that looked at her like a little sister that she used the fact that Merle got a free look at her boobs to keep him on the straight and narrow. 

Beth just shook her head, taking the blueberry muffin from him and one of the water bottles. Merle was probably trying his best for Daryl. He might refuse to say it, but he wanted to prove himself to his younger brother. Rick led her back to the car and opened her door for her. 

“How long were we drivin’?” Beth asked anyone that wanted to answer her. 

Daryl cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder, “We’ve been on the road about three hours. Got about five more ta Virginia Beach.”

She’d just gotten settled back into her seat when Rick glanced in the mirror again. “Beth, ya wanna look up some motels out there? See if ya can find us somewhere to stay?”

“Sure.” She dug her phone out of her purse and opened an internet tab. “Ya got a price range for me? I’m assuming we’re still stayin’ as low profile as we can?”

“Yeah, let’s not go strollin’ into no five-star hotel,” Merle piped up from beside her. “Find me one with some magic fingers in the bed!”

Beth entered ‘Virginia Beach’ and ‘motel’ into the search bar. After clicking on a few links, she found a place that she knew Merle would absolutely hate. Yep, this is where they were going. It was cheap and looked pretty clean. No magic fingers.

“Think I found one,” she announced. “The Dolphin Inn. It’s got availability, early check-in and late check-out. Don’t think we’ll be getting any diseases from walkin’ around.” She rattled off the address to Daryl, who entered it into the GPS on the dashboard.

“So does anybody have a non-revenge plan idea for passin’ the time until we get there?” Beth asked. No one answered, but all three men gave her different looks of annoyance. “Wait, I’ve got an idea. Merle, remember our little agreement the other day? The one that got my toenails painted? I’m gonna add ta that. Tell me the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

Daryl snorted from the passenger seat. “How long ya got, Greene?”

Merle glared at his brother and then thought for a few minutes. 

“Rick knows all ‘bout this one.” Merle lightly smacked the seat in front of him when he started speaking. “Well, Rick’s been there fer quite a few, but this was the first time I had a cop poke me in the eye an’ tell me I’s a dumb ass. I was tweaking pretty hard. Saw this big house and just wanted to see what kinda shit they had in there. I kicked in the door, wasn’t really thinkin’ ‘bout how people in big houses have those fancy alarm systems. These nice folks had one that went right ta the sheriff’s station. So there I was, wanderin’ through this hallway, lookin’ at all the weird shit they had. Suddenly, I see flashin’ lights. I knew I couldn’t get arrested again. I thought about this program I’d watched a few weeks before. It was all about the Egyptian Pharaohs and how they had caskets that looked like ‘em. I got a great idea and thought, ‘ _ well shit, these people might have a random redneck statue among all their shit.’  _ So I stood as still as I could—and I still think I would’ve gotten away with it, but of course Officer Friendly had to be the first on scene. So there I was, standin’ still as a statue. I thought I was doin’ a great job, but then Rick was standin’ in front of me, talkin’ ‘bout how there was no way these nice old people would have a statue of me in their hallway. I was gonna keep it up, but then he walked up, poked me in the eye an’ said, ‘let’s go, dumbass’. Turns out the nice people found out I didn’t take anythin’ so they didn’t press charges. I just paid fer their door and that was that.”

Rick and Daryl were both laughing along with Beth. 

“I had no idea what the hell was goin’ on,” Rick added from the front seat. “I’ve never heard of somebody pretendin’ ta be a fuckin’  _ statue _ ta avoid gettin’ arrested.” 

Beth caught her breath before asking, “So, that’s really the  _ stupidest _ thing you’ve ever done?”

Merle took a deep breath and looked over at her as a shadow crossed his features. “It’s the stupidest thing I did that I don’t regret an’ wish I could change.”

She wasn’t sure why, but Beth reached her hand over and lightly lay it on Merle’s. The gruff older man gave her a small smile before he rolled his eyes and narrowed them back at her. “You’ve heard my dumbass story, what d’you got fer me?”

She had to think for a minute. There were no stories like breaking in and playing statue in her past. Mostly, she’d stayed under the radar and tried to follow the rules her parents had set for her, but there were a few times that she found herself in a little bit of trouble.

“I had an older brother, Shawn.” Beth had to fight down the lump that started in her throat at the memory of her big brother. “He was always teasin’ me and tellin’ me that I couldn’ be a good farm girl ‘cause I was too small and weak. Shawn thought he was John Wayne, the way he’d strut around the farm. One day, we were headin’ ta the back pasture and I saw this garter snake just mindin’ its own business. So I decided ta see if Shawn really was as brave as he said. Picked up the snake, threw it at him, and Shawn screamed like I’d never heard a person scream before! ‘Course, my mama just happened to be in the orchard that was in the back pasture. She saw everythin’, and I got in big trouble fer that one. Proved he wasn’t John Wayne, though,”

Everyone in the SUV was laughing by that point. 

“I never heard that story, Beth. How old were ya?” Rick asked. “When ya started with Shawn, I thought you were gonna tell us ‘bout the handcuff incident.”

Oh, the handcuff incident. 

“I was six when I threw the snake. Same age as when I handcuffed him ta the stool.” Beth tried not to meet Rick’s eyes. She remembered how much trouble she got for  _ that _ adventure. Apologizing to the sheriff for stealing his handcuffs had been the worst part.

Daryl turned in his seat. “Ya know ya gotta tell us now. If you don’t, I’ll just get it outta Rick.”

Rick was nodding his head, confirming that he would be happy to tell all about Beth’s walk on the wrong side of the law.

“Ugh, I will never live that down, will I? Rick had come over ta help Daddy with somethin’ one mornin’—I think you were on yer way to Atlanta fer some trainin’, right?” Beth paused, waiting for Rick to nod.

He did, confirming the details, and she went on, “Well, Rick had set his handcuffs on the table and I saw ‘em and knew he wasn’t gonna need ‘em that day. So I thought Shawn and I could go ta the barn an’ play cops and robbers. It’d be lots’a fun. Ya have ta know, I was small when I was little, like really scrawny. I was the first robber, and when Shawn handcuffed me, we realized that I could just slide the handcuffs off. The night before, we’d watched some show where they cuffed a bad guy to a chair to keep him from runnin’ away. Daddy had a small desk and chair in the barn, like an old office chair. I was makin’ sure my perp didn’t get away, so I put one cuff around Shawn and one around the arm of the chair. That’s when we realized that Shawn wasn’t as small as me and couldn’t slide the cuffs off.  _ And _ we didn’t have the key. Shawn started to panic and I’m sure we were a hell of a sight, with me pushin’ the chair up the dirt road from the barn to the house while Shawn walked next to me, cryin’ his eyes out. Daddy coulda taken us ta the sheriff’s station, but no. We had ta learn a lesson. Shawn was handcuffed to the chair all day, and I had to help him do everythig’ but the bathroom. Pushed that damn chair all over the house. Made him food, let him have the last Capri Sun. Then when Rick came over after bein’ in Atlanta all, day I had ta explain why I took the handcuffs and why I thought I should cuff Shawn ta the chair.” Beth remembered how mad she was, stamping her little feet and yelling that she’d been handcuffed too, it wasn’t her fault Shawn had fat wrists. “Rick stood there listening and tryin’ not ta laugh. I had ta do Shawn’s chores around the house for a week  _ and _ help Rick clean up the sheriff’s office on my weekends fer a month after that!”

Rick looked over at Daryl, who was trying to keep his laughter somewhat under control. “Ya shoulda seen her, man. Her little face was all red and she had her fists balled up. I thought she was gonna punch somebody. Prolly me. Just said, ‘ _ fine ya big meanies’  _ and stomped up the stairs to her room. She slammed that door so hard, the whole house shook.”

Merle reached over and smacked her on her shoulder, “Well holy shit, blondie, ya been full’a fire since day one, ain’t ya?”

Beth just smiled at him and then settled back in the seat. The conversation continued around her about things that the men had done in the past. Stories she’d like to hear, but she’d started thinking about her big brother. All the things they’d done growing up.

Sure, he’d been a real pain in the ass at times, but more than anything, he’d been her big brother. Taught her how to carve a duck out of a chunk of wood and the little pocket knife he’d convinced mom and dad to let her have. The best way to throw a punch in case she needed to knock some guy on his ass. He was always there to talk to and to offer the advice she needed. She missed him so much. One person being stupid and going the wrong way, blowing through a stop sign, and then just taking off, had cost her a brother and a mother. That was when it seemed everything started to fall apart. Things got tense, she got withdrawn.

She’d give anything to have Shawn’s advice right now. To have her big brother guiding her along with Daryl, Rick, and Merle.

Instead of joining back in on the conversation, she rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. And she hoped that if any dreams came to her, they would be of all the fun times she’d had growing up, rather than the pain that had become part of her daily life. 

* * *

_ The school bus didn’t go all the way down to her house, so every day Beth would walk the half mile from the main road to the house. She’d been so excited to start kindergarten and finally go to school like Maggie and Shawn. Her mom and dad hadn’t wanted her to ride the bus, but Beth had talked them into it. She enjoyed her daily walk home. There were always flowers to pick, butterflies to chase, and birds to sing to. Maggie and Shawn always rode the bus to school with her, but she only went to school half-days, so the walk home was always on her own.  _

_ It was the beginning of October and the leaves were starting to change, the temperature getting cooler. Instead of skipping down the drive, today Beth’s footsteps were heavy. Her feet dragged and her head was down. She’d waved at Hershel when she passed the barn. Mama must have been in town because the house was quiet. That was perfect—she didn’t want to see anyone or talk about her day. There was a room upstairs that was usually just a guest room, but it had a big bay window and her mom always kept the comfiest pillows on it. That’s where Beth headed.  _

_ And that’s where Shawn found her three hours later. Her little face was streaked with tears, one of her pigtails was halfway undone, and there was a hole in the pink tights she’d been so excited to wear with her denim dress.  _

_ “Bethy, what’s wrong? Why ya hidin’ in here?” Shawn’s voice pulled her out of the haze she’d been in. He came to sit down by her and once he got a good look at her, his chin jutted out and his shoulders squared. “Why ya cryin’? What happened t’you?” _

_ Beth opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a small sob. She took a deep breath and wiped her hands across her eyes, trying to get rid of the tears that were starting again. “I… I was waitin’ ta get on the bus and one of the boys in my class told me that my new dress was ugly, and then… and then he pulled my pigtail!” Her chin was quivering and fresh tears started down her face. “I told him ta stop it and that he was mean. Then he pushed me and I fell in front of everybody an’ they all laughed at me. I tore my tights an’ scraped my knee. No one wanted ta sit on the bus with me after because they said I was a crybaby. I’m never goin’ back there!” She crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at her brother defiantly. _

_ “Yes, you are. Tomorrow, yer gonna go back there and yer gonna hold yer head up ‘cause we’re Greenes. We don’t back down from bullies. If that boy messes with ya again, you tell him that yer older brother will punch him in the nose if he keep bein’ mean.” Shawn put his arm around Beth’s shoulders and she looked up at him with endless admiration and hope. _

_ “Wouldj’a teach me how ta punch? Then  _ **_I_ ** _ could punch him in the nose!” She made a little fist and swung it around. _

_ Shawn laughed at her and put his hand over her fist. “No, you let me handle the punchin’ of people. Ya don’t have ta worry about nobody when I’m around. I’m always gonna be here ta protect you from the mean kids. That’s my job as yer big brother.” _

_ Beth went back to school the next day. When the same boy told her that her shirt was ugly and tried to pull her hair again, Beth was ready for him. She told him that her older brother would punch him in the nose, but then she added her own kick to his shin. Which made the boy cry. And suddenly, no one messed with Beth Greene again. They knew she was able to protect herself, but there was always the looming threat of Shawn behind her. And if they looked a little harder, there was the unstoppable force of the oldest Greene sibling. _

_ And no one was stupid enough to mess with Maggie Greene. _

* * *

The car came to a stop and Beth jerked out of the memory that she’d been lost in. She looked up to see they were in front of a pink stucco motel, and there was a large fountain out front with stone dolphins jumping around the outside. Merle gave her a look of annoyance when he saw the cheesy facade of the  _ Dolphin Inn Motel. _

“The fuck ya pick this place for, blondie?” He grumbled while looking up at the building through the windshield. 

Beth shrugged and gave him a big smile. “Well it’s relatively cheap, looks clean, and I like dolphins. Next time, don’t let me pick the motel!”

Rick snorted out a laugh as he took off his seatbelt and opened the door. “It’s perfect, Beth. Y’all stay in here while I go get us rooms. I’m guessin’ we’re only gonna be needin’ two?” It was Merle’s turn to laugh when Beth and Daryl both started to blush.

“Yeah, just get two rooms, preferably as far apart as ya can get. I need a smoke. Ya comin’, Merle?” Daryl looked over his shoulder at his older brother. Merle was already halfway out of the car when he heard the word smoke. 

“Hey Rick, will ya ask them if there’s a mall close by?” Beth asked before the sheriff got too far from the Explorer. He nodded his head before walking into the lobby.

She wanted to stretch her legs after being in the vehicle for so long. Daryl and Merle were leaning against the backend, neither one of them speaking, just smoking and staring off into space.

Beth walked to the end of the parking lot and was surprised to see that across the street, just on the other side of a large hotel, was the ocean. It wasn’t the brilliant blue she’d always expected, but a stony gray color. Nevertheless, it was still the ocean, with miles of beach stretching as far as she could see.

“Guys, we can see the beach from here! It’s right there!” She called to the brothers. Merle rolled his eyes at her and Daryl gave her one of his half-smiles before taking a long drag off his cigarette. “Alright, well at least  _ I’m _ excited about it,” she muttered to herself. 

By the time she’d made it back to the Dixons, Rick had returned. He handed both her and Daryl a key card. “No luck on bein’ as far apart as we could. Even better, got us adjoining rooms! Close to the ice machine even. Let’s get unloaded. Kid at the desk says there’s a mall a few miles from here. Gave me the address. If the rooms are anythin’ like the lobby, Merle, yer gonna  _ love _ this place.”

* * *

Daryl started laughing as soon as they walked into the room.

Every inch was ocean themed. The lamps were shaped like mermaids, the throw pillows on the bed like shells. The carpet was a turquoise color that Beth assumed was supposed to be the ocean, while the walls were a sandy brown. It was the ultimate lowbrow beach destination… and she  _ loved _ it! 

“I think you found Merle’s personal hell, Greene,” Daryl whispered in her ear. They could hear Merle loudly complaining that he was already seasick and the bed didn’t have those magic fingers he’d wanted so badly. He threw their bags onto the bed. Only one King size bed, Beth noted. She hoped that Rick and Merle had two or else she’d never hear the end of it. 

Beth peeked in at the bathroom and saw that the ocean theme was carried on in there. Soap in the shape of seahorses, towels folded like shells, and pictures of seagulls on the wall. Daryl came up behind her and sighed. She might have just found his personal hell as well. 

“I’m gonna go grab the keys and the address from Rick so we can get outta here. Let those two do whatever the hell they’re gonna do.” He bumped her shoulder with his as he went through the doors that connected the two rooms. 

* * *

It was early afternoon when they pulled into the parking lot of the mall. There didn’t seem to be many cars, which gave Beth a small sense of relief. She didn’t miss that Daryl’s shoulders were rigid and he was constantly looking around. Like he thought someone was going to come jumping out at them. In reality, that was completely possible, but hardly anyone knew they were in Virginia. Hopefully it would stay that way until they were headed north. 

She had a feeling that Daryl wasn’t going to be the type to hold her hand while they went strolling through the mall and then share a milkshake once they were done—partly because they didn’t live in the 1950’s, but mostly because he wasn’t the type for PDA. The few small touches and looks from him when Rick and Merle were around always gave her butterflies. He was willing to be uncomfortable for her, even in those small moments. 

“I’ll try an’ make this as painless as possible for you. But I did have a few ideas I wanna run past ya.” She knew that she would have to talk him into a few of her ideas, though she was convinced he would come around. 

It was also time to make use of some of that money Maggie and her dad had stashed in her bag. She needed clothes and makeup and some different shoes. She couldn’t be farmgirl Beth Greene for the next few days. While she had no idea what she was supposed to look like, she knew she wanted to command respect from Dante and, more importantly, from Aaron. 

“Alrigh’ Greene, what’s goin’ on in that head of yers?” They’d reached the front entrance and he grabbed the handle, pulling the door open for her and resting his hand on the small of her back as she went through.

Beth gave him a warm smile at the gesture. Good-looking, protective, and he had manners. She’d done worse.

“I think we should keep up the married ruse. It works to make sure that you’re with me the whole time, and we can use it to our advantage if we have to.” She chanced a look at him to find that he was nodding his head and rubbing his hand over the hair on his chin. Something she noticed he did when he was contemplating. “So, I was thinkin’ we find someplace and get some cheap rings. Nothin’ flashy, just one of those little booths that sell silver so we don’t turn our fingers green. And if yer gonna be the husband of a mob boss, we need ta get you a few new pairs of jeans, maybe a few shirts that still have the sleeves attached.” He rolled his eyes at that, but nudged her with his shoulder.

“Ya ain’t gonna dress me up all formal, are ya?” He grumbled. “I don’t think I can pull off that pretty boy look. But I ‘spose I can go along with pretendin’ ta be married to ya fer a little bit longer.” Daryl had stopped in front of one of the mall directory maps. “Ya know where ya wanna go? Wanderin’ around this place aimlessly… I think I’d rather hang out with Merle in his pink pajamas.”

Beth pointed to a few stores on the map as she explained, “We don’t have to wander around, we can get everything in these three stores. We both can get clothes here. I can pick up makeup and hair stuff at the Sephora next door, and then shoes across the hall. Shouldn’t take long. It looks like there’s one of those booths that sells jewelry over there.” She pointed the opposite way of where they were headed. “So we can hit that place on our way out.”

“Alrigh’ girl, let’s get goin’ so we can get outta here,” Daryl mumbled as he gently nudged her in the direction of the first store. 

Shopping with Daryl was something new for her. While she tried on countless outfits and tried to figure out exactly what she needed, Daryl grabbed two pairs of black jeans identical to the ones that he was wearing, just not as worn. He also picked up three button-down shirts in black, green, and dark blue—again, just like the one he had on, but with the sleeves attached. He was patient while she tried everything on. Finally, she settled on two pairs of black pants that made her legs look longer than they were, two dresses that looked more professional than the cute flirty sundresses she liked so much, and four different tops that would all work well with the black pants. They made their way up to the counter and she saw Daryl reach for his wallet, but she grabbed his hand and showed him that she’d brought some of the cash from her bag. He tried to shake his head no, but when she gave him what she hoped was her most scathing look, he raised his hands in surrender.

“Daddy wanted me ta use this money to  _ ‘take over’ _ and, well, this is part of it.” Beth handed the cash over to the girl that was checking them out and took her change while Daryl grabbed the bag.

They headed next door to Sephora, but Daryl stopped in his tracks at the entrance. “Nope. Not happenin’. I trust you can handle yerself in there. I’ll just wait here with the bags.”

Beth had to laugh. Daryl didn’t flinch when he was facing a man who wanted to kill them both, but a store like Sephora apparently scared the hell out of him.

“Okay, but yer gonna feel really bad if I get attacked by some vicious mascara!” It felt good to have someone to banter with again. She’d missed the easy way she could just be with someone. She wasn’t going to make him suffer out there the whole time, though.

She grabbed all the makeup she would need, which was easy because she just got everything she knew she’d left at home. She also picked up some deep red lipstick. HBIC Beth wore red lipstick, she’d decided. On a whim, she also grabbed shampoo and conditioner for herself along with some for Daryl, and body wash for each of them. Hotel soap and the cheap stuff they bought at Walmart was okay, but if she could afford it for the moment, she was going to treat herself—and him. 

Daryl’s eyes widened when he saw that she was carrying four of the black-and-white bags out of the store. “What in the hell did ya buy that takes that many bags?”

“Just things every girl needs, Daryl,” she shrugged. Then she glanced towards the shoe store across the hall. “I already see the shoes I think I want, so we can be in and out.”

She hurried ahead of him and found the booties she’s seen in the window. They were black leather and had a pointed toe and a stiletto heel. She wouldn’t be able to wear them with her ankle just yet, but at some point, she was going to wear the hell out of them! There was a pair of black ballet flats that she would have to make work for now.

By the time they finished with their shopping and made a stop at the little booth to buy two silver bands, both of their arms were loaded down with bags. Daryl looked absolutely exhausted and like he’d seen a few things that deeply disturbed him. When he saw the Explorer, his pace picked up and relief was written all over his face. They stuck the bags in the back end and went to get in and head back to the motel, but then Beth had an idea. 

“Let’s not go right back ta the motel,” she suggested. “We’re right here on the beach, let’s find somewhere to grab some food, then maybe take a walk on the boardwalk. It’s not like Rick and Merle need us to keep an eye on them.”

Daryl backed the Explorer out of the parking space and then started to work his way out of the parking lot. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all day. Look up the easiest place we can park and see if ya can find somewhere ta eat.” He pulled onto the main road and started back towards the motel.

“Umm, looks like there’s a parking lot just two blocks up this street. Only five dollars for all day parking, and there’s a little seafood place about thirty yards away that has really good reviews.” She put her phone back in her purse. “Just turn left at the next light and the parking lot is right in front of us.”

They found the parking lot easily and walked to the restaurant. The reviews had been right: the food was amazing. It was true what they said about eating seafood when you’re on the beach. Instead of going back to the car, Beth and Daryl found a bench and removed their shoes. Beth rolled up the legs of her jeans and they walked down the beach. Neither one of them felt the need to talk, it was a moment that was just to be lived in. There were people everywhere, but it was almost like they got to be in their own little world surrounded by the ocean air and the sounds of the waves coming to the shore and the gulls crying overhead. 

Beth was the one to break the quiet, “I always thought the ocean would be clear and bright blue like in the movies. This water is dark, like storm clouds almost.”

“Might just be the difference in the Pacific and the Atlantic. Never seen either one of ‘em till now, but we’re close to a naval base, maybe it’s got somethin’ ta do with that. Or maybe it’s just pollution catchin’ up with us.”

She was surprised by that answer. She’d expected a shrug or more silence. Daryl Dixon really was a mystery, and she enjoyed these little glimpses into the real him. They only really happened when they were alone, but she was starting to treasure each of them.

“Hmm, yeah,” she pondered. “Either way, it’s still beautiful. There’s somethin’ humbling about seein’ the ocean. Ya look at it and it’s just… vast. Infinite. There’s so much hidden just beneath the surface, both ugly and beautiful; secrets that people have thrown into its depths. It’s overwhelming and… soothing, all at the same time.”

She hadn’t realized Daryl had stopped until she felt him grab her hand and pull her back towards him. His hand moved from her hand to the back of her neck and then his lips were on hers. She dropped her shoes into the sand and wrapped both arms around his neck. She wasn’t sure who deepened the kiss, but their tongues were twined together and Beth was on her toes trying to get as close to him as she could. Daryl gently pulled away from her before looking down into her eyes. 

“What was that for?” Beth asked, trying to catch her breath.

“Dunno, just felt like that speech needed somethin’ like that at the end. The way ya can still look at the world, after all ya been through… Most people would be in a dark hole. Refusin’ ta move. But here ya are. Walkin’ on the beach, about to take on the world, and yer able to put the ocean into words like I ain’t ever heard before.” He reached down and grabbed her shoes and handed them back to her. “Let’s head back to the car. Don’t think I haven’t noticed ya been tryin’ to hide the fact yer limp is getting worse. Gonna have to ice it tonight or it’s gonna swell up again.”

“Way ta ruin the moment, Mr. Dixon,” she teased. Then she grew serious and admitted, “Ya know, yer a big reason that I’m not in that dark place. I’ve started to feel myself drift now an’ again, but then you make me laugh or you make me mad and it pulls me back. Besides, it’s like I already told you: bein’ there again… it just isn’t in my blood.”

* * *

When they made it back to the hotel, Merle and Rick were in their room watching TV and drinking a six-pack of beer. They’d walked down to the gas station while Beth and Daryl were gone. Merle was sitting between the doors that separated the two rooms, leaning back on the back two legs of the chair he’d pulled over from the desk. He smirked at Daryl when he saw all the bags they brought in.

“Ya get all yer fancy duds, Darylina?” He taunted.

Daryl just rolled his eyes and kicked the chair legs out from under Merle, then watched as his brother went crashing to the floor.

“Hey! I’m injured and ya made me spill my beer, fucker!” Merle was trying to pull himself back up, but stopped long enough to flip Rick off, who was laughing from his spot on the bed. Luckily, they did indeed have two beds. 

“Then watch yer mouth, sunshine.” Daryl was obviously trying to suppress his own laughter. 

Beth got to work unpacking their bags. She got to the one with both of their shampoos and body wash. She thrust the bag out to Daryl and asked, “Can ya put that stuff in the shower? There’s a set fer me and a set fer you.”

Looking perplexed, Daryl took the bag and walked to the bathroom, mumbling about how he didn’t need any ‘ _ foofoo smellin’ stuff.’ _

Beth laid out one of the pairs of pants she’d bought and a cream top with a lace overlay. She’d already decided that was the one for meeting with Dante. The little package with the rings was sitting on the bed and she unwrapped them and sat the thinner band next to her clothes and the thicker band on the nightstand where Daryl would find it. 

“Ya’ll leave anythin’ at the place?” Rick drawled as he walked in the room and held out one of the beers to Beth and Daryl, who’d just made his way out of the bathroom. 

He didn’t give either of them a chance to answer before he filled them in on what he’d found out. “Talked ta Eugene today. Seems like the good doctor has a small clinic. Only he an’ his wife work there. Eugene also said Dante’s been gettin’ some payments every month, but he’s havin’ a hard time chasin’ down where they came from. He’s workin on it. Merle and I had an idea, and we scheduled him an appointment tomorrow. Said he was worried about some infected stitches. That way we can all get in there. It’s a real small place. Thought it would be better than sayin’ you were in town and wanted ta meet. Just in case he’s got less than honorable intentions.”

“That seems like a good idea,” Beth agreed. “Good plan. Did you ask Eugene to dig up whatever he could on Aaron? I’d like ta have some idea of what this guy’s capable of before we meet him.”

Rick nodded his head. 

“Good. Daryl an’ I were talkin’, and we’re gonna keep pretending we’re married. It makes it easier ta have him in all the meetings I might have or anything that happens.” She paused and called over her shoulder, “Merle, don’t say a fuckin’ word or I will knock ya on the floor this time.” She’d seen him open his mouth and she knew what he was about to say.

He glared at her, but smartly kept his mouth shut.

* * *

They passed the rest of the day deciding who would go in with Merle and how the others would get in. Beth and Daryl would go with him, posing as concerned family members. Beth would call Rick and make sure that he was able to hear everything that was going on. Once they got back into a room, she would make it known that they weren’t there for medical treatment, but that she was Beth Greene and she wanted to hear what he had to offer. If anything got weird or felt off, the sheriff would get back there any way he had to. It was a flimsy plan, but considering they didn’t know much about what they were walking into, it was all they had. 

They ordered pizza for dinner and sat out on the tiny balcony attached to Beth and Daryl’s room, watching the small patch of ocean they could see. Rick and Merle left for their room shortly after they finished. Daryl offered Beth the shower first, but she wanted to stay and smell the sea air and listen to the waves for a bit longer. He was in and out in ten minutes and grabbed the book he’d packed in his bag. 

“ _ The Shining _ , huh? That’s my favorite book,” Beth commented when she noticed what he was reading. Full of surprises, that was Daryl Dixon. 

Beth took a quick shower. She’d take another in the morning to wash her hair, she just wanted to wash the smell of road trip and mall off her skin. The bathroom had a musky woodsy scent left over from Daryl’s shower, and she smiled to herself knowing that he’d used the items she’d picked out for him. The shower felt wonderful after the long day, and Daryl had been right, her ankle was a bit swollen, but nowhere near as bad as it had been.

He was still reading when she came back to the room. She climbed into bed next to him, rolling over onto her side to face him. Daryl grabbed the bookmark that was on the nightstand and stuck it in his book before turning off the light and rolling over to face her. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but soon they were a tangle of arms and legs. Daryl’s mouth was on her neck and his hand was slowly moving up her tank top. He shifted his weight to turn them so she was on her back.

Beth had just started to pull Daryl’s shirt up and was rolling her hips against his.

**Bang!** ****  
**Bang!** **  
** **Bang!**

**"** _ DARYL! _ **"** Merle's voice called through the doors dividing their rooms.

Daryl groaned and pushed himself up slightly. "We're not doin' anything, asshole! Still got all our clothes on, so go the fuck away!"

"Shut up boy, an’ come open this door. It's important! An' if ya ain't got yer clothes off yet, it shouldn't be takin’ this fuckin' long." Merle continued to beat on the door until Daryl walked over and swung it open

"What the fuck do ya need so badly?" Daryl asked before both Merle and Rick pushed into the room. Rick grabbed the remote for the TV and scrolled through a few channels before stopping on a 24-hour news channel. Beth had straightened her clothes and managed to turn the light back on before she paid attention to what Rick had turned on.

She gasped as soon as she saw the front of the Senoia Sheriff Station. There was a tall man in front of a bank of microphones. He was dressed in an impeccable black suit that worked well with his bright red hair and mustache.

The banner at the bottom of the screen read:  _ FBI Special Agent Ford about to make remarks concerning mass murder in small town Senoia. _

"Good evening, my name is Special Agent Abraham Ford and I have been brought here from the Atlanta FBI division. I know most of you think I want to update you on the tragedies that occurred at the Greene Farm and the Dixon Junkyard, and I will in fact address them in the coming days. But tonight, I want to inform everyone that the Sheriff of Senoia, Rick Grimes, is missing. We believe foul play was involved. We have reason to believe that he was most likely taken by the person or persons that were responsible for the massacres at the farm and junkyard. At this time, we’d like to ask the public for help. If you believe you’ve seen Sheriff Rick Grimes, contact authorities immediately. The tip line should be on your television screen. We’ve been led to believe he is being held against his will, so do not—I repeat,  _ do not _ —attempt to approach him. Notify the authorities  _ immediately _ . We also have reason to believe that Hershel Greene's youngest daughter, Beth Greene, was taken from her apartment in Atlanta on the night of the murders. Sheriff Rick Grimes and Beth Greene are most likely being held by the same people. If you see them, do not hesitate to report in. We want to get both of these individuals back home to their families, safe and unharmed. I won't be taking any questions at this time. Thank you."

Agent Ford turned around and walked back towards the station, then two pictures filled the screen: one of Beth and one of Rick.

_ Fuck! _

"I think yer days of walkin' ‘round malls are over, blondie," Merle called out from where he'd been watching the report. 

Daryl was looking at Rick, a perplexed look on his face and worry in his eyes. "That don't make no sense. The way you told it to me, they know ya took off with files and shit. Nobody came and  _ kidnapped _ you!" Daryl was frustrated, Beth could hear it in his voice.

Rick nodded, rubbing his hands across his face. "He's smart. Playin' it like that. Tellin' ‘em that I took off ‘cause I was dirty ain’t gonna get people’s attention. But tell ‘em that a cop and the young daughter of the most powerful man in town have been taken… People pay attention ta  _ that _ . We're gonna have ta be on our guard now. Can't use my name or Beth's anymore. I used Richard Dixon when I checked in here, but that won't hold up fer too long."

Daryl had sat down next to Beth and pulled her close to him. "Rick, ya gotta shave the beard and ‘stache. They give ya away. Ya look totally different clean-faced. Throw on a baseball hat and some sunglasses and you might be fine. Beth here—that blonde hair is like a beacon. Ya need ta pile it up an’ toss a hat on it. Shades on you, too."

Beth nodded her agreement, glad she'd picked up that baseball cap today and those aviators she'd fallen in love with. Some strategic makeup and different clothes could help, as well.

Rick stood up and started heading back to his and Merle's room, grabbing the old redneck on the way. He turned back to look at Beth. She could tell an idea had suddenly hit him. 

"I'm gonna call Eugene right now. Get us all new ID’s and some credit cards. If we can just get through tomorrow and yer meeting in D.C., we'll be fine. ‘Cause once we're in Boston, you and everybody around you are virtually untouchable there. The network yer dad had there is like nothin' I've ever seen. Let's just keep our heads on a swivel till then. We called and made the appointment for Merle in the morning. It's only ever the doc and his wife there. Once Merle is in the room, he'll text us and we'll all go meet Doctor Dante and his wife. See what we can get out of ‘em." He started through the door before turning his head once more. "And please, for the sake of my sanity… go to sleep. We've got a long day tomorrow and these walls are thin."

The pillow Daryl threw at him hit full force in the chest. Rick just smiled while Merle cackled all the way back to the other room. 

Daryl went to make sure both doors were locked and then settled back in bed. Beth joined him after grabbing a bottle of water. "This is it, isn't it?” She asked quietly. “No more planning and hiding… Tomorrow, we start takin back what's ours."

She wasn't sure how, but her own words gave her chills. 

Daryl pulled her in close to him and turned off the light. "Yeah, that's tomorrow. So tonight, ya need ta sleep. Gotta be on yer game. ‘S time fer you ta be the Head Bitch In Charge." He gave her a gentle but lingering kiss on her lips and then settled into his pillow, falling asleep quickly.

Beth lay there and finally, sleep came for her too. But her last thought haunted her dreams all night.

Was she ready for this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Comments are always appreciated! They really do help the writing happen faster. I don't know how to explain it, but they do!


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